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AMERICAN  GENTLEMAN'S 

GUIDE   TO   POLITENESS 


AND 


FASHION. 


THK 


AMEEICAN  GENTLEMAN'S 

aUIDE  TO  POLITENESS 


AND 

FASHION; 

OB, 

FAMILIAR  LETTERS  TO  HIS  NEPHEWS, 
BY  HEOTIY  LUNETTES. 


The  good  old  name  of  Gentlejlvn. 

Tenntson. 

People  somciunes  complain  of  writers  who  talk  of  "I,  I."  *  *  *  *  When 
I  epeak  to  you  of  myself,  I  am'  speaking  to  you  of  yourself  also.  Is  it  possible 
that  you  do  not  feel  that  it  is  so  I  Victor  Huao. 


NEW  EDITION,  CAREFULLY  REVISED  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT    &   CO. 

1863. 


G6 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1863,  by 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT   &   CO., 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Eastern  Dis- 
trict of  Pennsylvania. 


HIS    YOUNG    COUNTRYMEN, 


THIS    UNPRETENDIXa    VOLUME,     IS,    WITH    AFFECT  f  ON  ATE    PRIDE, 
INSCRIBED    BY 

TEE    AUTHOR. 


248137 


INTEODUCTION. 


**  I  LANa  ha'e  thought,  my  youthful  friends, 

A  something  to  have  sent  you, 
Tho'  it  may  serve  no  other  end 

Than  just  a  kind  memento : 
But  how  the  subject-theme  may  gang 

Let  time  and  chance  determine ; 
Perhaps  it  may  turn  out  a  sang, 

Perhaps  turn  out  a  sermon/' 


TABLE  OF   COl^TENTS 


LETTER  I. 
DRESS. 


PBOPRIRTT  of  conforming  to  Fashion,  with  a  due  Regard  for  individual  PecuII- 
arities  of  Appearance — Eccentricity  of  Taste  in  Dress — Obedience  to  the  Lawi 
of  Convention— The  vagaries  of  Genius,  in  this  respect— Absurdity  and 
Aflfectation  originated  by  the  Example  of  Byron — All  indiflference  and  neglect 
to  be  avoided,  with  regard  to  Dress — Anecdote  of  Dr.  Johnson  and  the  Sid- 
dons — Porson,  the  Greelc  Scholar — Horace  Greeley — Aphorism — Habits  of  a 
distinguished  Parisian  savant — Example  and  opinion  of  Washington  with 
reference  to  Dress — Partiality  of  Americans  for  Black,  as  the  color  of  dress- 
clothes— Practice  of  Men  in  other  Countries,  in  the  selection  of  Colors — 
Morning  Costume  of  an  English  Gentleman— Every  English  Gentleman  use- 
fully employed  during  a  Portion  of  eacli  Day— Dr,  Johnson's  Test  of  good 
Taste  in  Dress— Tlie  golden  mean  in  Matters  of  Dress— Ceremonious  Costume 
of  a  Gentleman -Mode  of  wearing  the  Hair  and  Beard— Necessity  for  artistic 
Taste  in  one's  Barber — All  extremes  of  Fashion  in  bad  Taste — Various  Absur- 
dities in  this  respect,  inconsistent  with  the  "keeping"  of  modern  Costura&— 
Collars,  their  size,  shape,  &c. — Sleeve-buttons — Bad  taste  of  wearing  flash 
Stones— Use  of  Diamonds  in  Dress— Simplicity  in  the  Appendages  of  Dress, 
the  characteristic  of  true  refinement — Signet-rings — Distinctive  Points  of 
difiference  between  the  exterior  of  a  Gentleman  and  of  a  Loafer — All  staring 
patterns  in  Gentlemen's  clothes  exceptionable — A  white  suit  throughout,  for 
warm  Weather — Thin  Cravats — Body  Linen — Kotzebue's  test  of  high-breed- 
ing—Strength  and  Comfort  the  essential  Characteristics  of  working  Garments 
— Fitness  and  propriety  even  in  matters  of  Dress,  indicative  of  a  well-regu- 

*  lated  Mind — Every  American  should  aim  to  be  a  true  Gentleman — Importance 
of  Trifles,  when  viewed  in  the  aggregate — Influence  of  Drese,  etc.,  upon 
Character  and  Manner — Wearing  Gloves  in  Dancing — White  Gloves  alone 
unexceptionable  for  ceremonious  Evening  Occasions — Gloves  suitable  for  the 
Street  and  Morning  Visits— Briglit-colored  Gloves  in  bad  <a»— Illustrative 
Anecdote — Over-Garments — Variety  sanctioned  by  Fashion  — Becomingnesa 
of  different  Stylos — Inconvenience  and  ill-appearance  of  Shawls — When 
Suitable— South  American  Poncho— Anecdote— New  reading  of  Lord  Nel- 

1* 


X  CONTENTS. 

■on'g  celebrated  Naval  Orders— Difference  between  Talking  and  Writing, 
the  Author's  Apology  for  numerous  Defects — The  Mill-boy  of  the  Slashes— 
The  Author  unacquainted  with  the  Elegancies  of  modern  Fashionable 
Nomenclature — Terms  of  agreement  between  the  Author  and  his  Corres- 
pondents,       2i 

LETTER  II. 
DRESS— <  Continued.) 

STORIES  AND  ANECDOTES  ILLUSTBATITK  OF  DRESS. 

Thk  Hero  or  the  Ball-Room.— The  Author's  Liking  for  Mass  Meetings — A 
F6te — Louis  Philippe  and  the  Militia  Officer— A  real  Soldier  conquered  by 
the  Fair !— The  "  Observed  of  all  Observers  "—A  Morning  Visit— Dissection 
of  the  "  Observed  of  all  Observers  1" — The  Hero  of  the  Ball-Room  is  con- 
signed to  the  "  Tomb  of  the  Capulets  "  in  a  bright,  pea-green,  thin  Muslin 

Shooting-Jacket  I .48 

Anecdote  of  Bulwer,  the  Novelist, .48 

The  Green  Mountain  Boy  and  his  New  Cloak, 49 

Count  Orloff  at  the  "  Peace  Convention," 60 

The  Fashionable  Uat.— A  Young  Clergyman  resolves  to  Visit  "  the  City  " — 
His  Plans  for  Economy — A  new  Black  Coat — A  Secret  Design — Fashionable 
Ridicule — The  Young  Clergyman  makes  the  mortifying  Discovery  that  he  is 
wearing  a  "  Shocking  Bad  Uat  " — Reluctantly  determines  to  buy  a  New  One 
—A  Traveller  in  an  Old  "  Kossuth  " — Test  of  what  is  Admissible  in  the  Dress 
of  the  Clergy— Reflections  of  a  "  Sadder  and  a  Wiser  "  Man— The  Uncle  and 
his  Little  Nephew — "  Bradbrook's  "  and  the  "  Pretty  Coat"— Another  Secret 

Design— The  Tyrant  of  Social  Life,  CO 

The  Chief  Justice— and  the  Travelling  Gloves  of  an  Exquisite,          .        .       .54 
Gov,  Marcy  akd  the  Parisians. — The  American  Secretary  of  Legation  at  St. 
Cloud,  at  a  Court  Dinner — Address  of  the  Turkish  Ambassador— ^The  Dis- 
tinctive Mark  of  a  Gentleman, 66 

The  Red  Cornelian  Pate. — Sketch  of  an  Elegant  leaning  upon  a  Bass-viol — 
Poetry  of  the  Female  Voice— An  Alpine  Party— A  Lady's  Avowal — Cox- 
combs— A  Mysterious  Stranger — My  Lundy-Lane  Sword — A  Figure  of 
Speech  appropriate  to  a  Sportsman's  Daughter — The  "  Weed  "  and  the  Shawl 
—An  Apple— The  "  Tug  of  War  " — The  Pitiable  Finger  !•  and  the  Cranberry 
P4t6— Design  of  the  "  Mysterious  Stranger  "—Jack  the  Giant-Killer  and  his 

Victim— A  Revelation— The  Dove  and  the  Vulture, 51 

Postscript  to  Letter  II. — Letter  to  the  Author  from  a  Distinguished  Man  of 
Fashion — Directions  for  the  Details  of  Gentlemen's  Dress,  on  various  Occa- 
sions— Wedding  Costume — Morning  and  Evening — Evening  Dress — Dress 
for  Morning  Visits — Costume  for  Bachelors'  Dinner-Parties — General  Re- 
marks upon  Colors,  etc. — Eflfect  of  Black  Dress — Blue — Brown — Anecdote  of 
Beau  Brummel — Opinion  of  a  French  Critic — Importance  of  the  "  Cut "  of 
Garments — Ease  the  First  Essential — An  Artistic  Air — Wadding,  or  Stuffing, 
to  be.U3ed  in  moderation— Sensible  Observations  of  a  Man  of  Discriminating 
Taste, Ct 


CXJNTENTS.  SI 

LETTER  in 
MANNER. 

kmnaax  of  a  Celebrated  Observer  of  Human  Nature— Manner  indicative  of 
Character — Benefits  of  Care  and  Attention  in  Youth — The  Fashionable  Man- 
ner of  the  Day — Danger  of  Affectation  in  Manner — Americans  too  often 
Caricature  their  European  Models — Good  Sense  and  Manly  Independence 
the  best  Guides  in  the  Formation  of  Manner— True  Politeness — Elegant 
definition  of  Politeness  by  a  celebrated  Author— Good  Breeding  inseparable 
from  the  Character  of  a  Gentleman— Sir  Philip  Sidney,  a  Christian  Gen- 
tleman— Manner  the  proper  expression  of  Mental  Qualities — The  Laws  of 
Convention — Their  proper  Use  and  Applicability — Conduct  towards  Supe- 
riors in  Age  and  Station  one  Test  of  Good  Breeding— Example  of  Washing- 
ton in  this  respect^Polished  Manners  of  the  Men  of  Revolutionary  Days — 
Bad  Taste  of  Slang  Language  and  Disrespectful  Familiarity  in  speaking  of 
Superiors  or  Parents— Reverence  rendered  to  Age  by  the  Ancients — Rude- 
ness of  "Young  America"  in  this  respect— The  Law  of  Kindness  a  sure 
Correction — Possibility  of  Benefit  to  be  derived  from  the  consideration  of 
those  who  have  seen  the  World — Disadvantages  of  early  Neglect  of  Manner 
— Improvement  always  possible,  at  any  age — Benefit  of  the  early  Acquisi- 
tion of  Habits  of  Self-Control  and  Self-Possession— Advantage  of  proper 
Examples  in  this  respect, 71 

riiK  Handsome  Engineer. — A  Railroad  Depot  and  a  Dilemma — The  Field- 
Book  and  Soiled  Boots — The  Blessings  of  Civilization — An  Honest  Saxon 
Word — Tlie  Charge — The  Arrival — A  Recognition — A  Metamorphosis — The 
Economy  of  driving  in  Dress-Boots — A  Whisper— The  Secret  of  the  Charm 
of  Manner, 79 

Am  AFTKa-DiNNER  CoTKBiK- — The  St.  Nicholas  Hotel  and  Santa  Claus — A  Plea- 
sant Meeting— A  Social  Re-Union— The  Dramatis  PersoncB.  of  the  Occasion 
—A  Sketch—"  Willard's,"  at  Washington— The  weary  Child— The  Courteous 
Strangers — A  Grateful  Tribute— Charge  against  American  Ladies— South- 
ern Manner— The  Stupid  Porter  and  the  cont re-temps— An  Inference — 
A  Scene  in  a  Country  Tavern— A  French-Woman  and  a  Yankee-Woman— 
Jonathan  and  the  Snuff-box — A  Tooth-ache  and  a  Rocking-chair — Sympathy 
and  Vivacity — The  Climax  of  Impatience  1 88 

A.  Polite  Young  Irelanokb. — A  Fight — An  Exclamation— A  Fair  Vision,       .    91 

LETTER  IV. 

MATHER— (ConUnued.) 

Practical  Directions.— Senator  Sumner's  appropriate  Sentence  —  Primary 
importance  of  Manner  at  Home — A  reiterated  Charge — Manner  to  Parents — 
Unvarying  confidence  and  reverence  due  to  a  Father— Tenderness  of  Man- 
ner to  a  Mother— Example  of  Washington— A  Revolutionary  Ball— Natur« 
the  best  Teacher  of  Duty— Too  great  familiarity,  even  with  Relations,  ol^eo- 


Xll  CX)NTKNTS. 

tlonablo— Manner  to  Brothers  and  Sisters— No  assumption  of  superlorltj 
justified  by  Birthright,  or  Circumstances — Every  Man  the  Guardian  of  his 
Sisters— A  Sister's  Love — Manner  to  a  Wife — The  preservation  of  her  Aflfec- 
tion— The  "Spectator,"  and  a  Sketch  of  an  Old-School  Husband— Impressive 
Teaching — A  Plea  for  Old-Pashioned  Authors  —  Reverence  for  the  Lares 
should  be  inviolate — Tlie  Graces  of  Manner  always  discerned  by  the  gentler 
Sex — The  Sensibility  of  Woman — Domestic  Politeness — Cheerful  Manner  in 
conferring  Favors — Importance  of  Trifles,  in  this  respect — Tlie  true  noble- 
ness of  Manhood — Aphorism  of  the  Latinists — Manner  to  Children — Their  In- 
nocence and  Susceptibility— The  influence  of  Example  in  this  regard— Children 
judges  of  Character — Power  of  the  Law  of  Love  over  the  Young— Supremacy 
of  Moral  Obligation— Manner  not  to  be  regarded  as  insignificant  by  the 
Christian  Gentleman — Manner  to  the  Unfortunate — Towards  Servants  and 
Inferiors — Arrogance  to  be  avoided — Mode  of  addressing  Domestics — Queen 
Elizabeth  and  her  Courtiers— EfiFect  of  a  pleasant  Word  and  a  pleasant  Tone 
— Peculiar  sensitiveness  of  the  Uneducated  in  tliis  respect — The  professional 
figure  of  an  old  Soldier  .'-Manifestations  of  Sympathy  for  Inferiors  in  Sta- 
tion— Readily  instructed  by  a  kind  Manner, 98 

ANECDOTES  AND  TALES,   ILLOSTKATIVE  OF  MANNER. 

Emperors  not  always  well-bred. — Manner  of  Napoleon  le  Grand  to  Women 
— A  Family  Levee — Reply  of  the  Mother  of  Bonaparte  to  her  Son — Napo- 
leon's stringent  enforcement  nf  Court  Rules — The  First  Consul  and  the  Lady's 
Train — Josephine's  timidity  ,  nl  her  Husband's  brutality — Maria  Louise's 

Bridal-Scene — An  almost  sacrilegious  Misnomer, 104 

A  Father's  Rebuke. — A  Steamer  on  the  Ohio- The  two  Friends — Cabin-Chit- 
chat— ^Youthful  mirth  reproved — The  effoct  of  a  Scene — ^The  fortunate  Guest — 

A  Family  Mansion  and  Family  Group— A  "  Study," 105 

The  Moral  Sublime :  An  Anecdote, 110 

The  Sailor  and  his  Mother, Ill 

Thb  Brothers. — Early  Separation— Home  Meetings— The  pomposity  of  the 
Alderman— A  Family  Quarrel— The  respectful  Son — The  Recording  Angel — 

Charley  visits  the  City— A  Morning  Call— Its  Result, Ill 

Washington  Irving's  Sketch  of  an  old  English  Gentleman,         .        .        .        •  118 

The  Poet  Rogers  and  his  Man  Friday, 114 

The  Family  Green-Room,  or  Lifb  Behind  the  Scenes.— An  old  Soldier 
Weather-bound— A  Morning  Sortie — An  Invitation— Youthful  Hospitality— 
A  Nursery  Fixture — The  "  Eldest  Son  and  Hope  of  the  House  " — A  playful 
Salutation— The  "  Land  of  Promise" — An  Armful — Lunch — An  unexpected 
Interposition— An  Overland  Journey— A  Catastrophe— Rubicon  Crossing— 
The  Dolphin— The  baked  Apple— A  "  Poor  Man  "—The  "  Cup  of  Cold  Water" 
—A  Stick  for  each — Spectacled  Reconnoitering— Cheerful  Words— Devotional 
Scene  —  Scientific  Inquiry— A  Capture— Escape  by  Stratagem— Almost  a 
Martyr— The  old  Soldier  re-visits  the  "  Mess  "  of  his  Camp-ground — A  dan- 
gerous Invader  —  Green-room  Asides — A  Rehearsal — College  Comforts — A 
Bketcli  by  one  of  'em— A  Stage-Trick— Anecdote  of  John  Kemble,  the  Actor— 
ADisclalmer  and  a  Commentary— Exit  of  a  "Star"— Table-Talk,        .  llf 


CONTENTS.  Xiii 

LETTER  Y. 

MANNER  IN  DETAIL. 

Maknrr  in  thk  Street — Upon  Meeting  a  Friend  or  Acqaaintance — Proper  Mode 
of  Salutation— "  Drawing  "  Gloves  — Stopping  to  Talk— Tact  and  Ease- 
Leaving  a  Companion  in  the  Street — Manner  to  Inferiors  in  the  Street— Kule, 
when  meeting  a  Gentleman-Acquaintance  walking  with  Ladies  whom  you  do 
not  know— When  you  are  acquainted  with  both  Ladies  and  Gentlemen 
whom  you  may  meetA-Shaking  Hands  wiih  Ladies  in  the  Street  at  Meeting 
or  at  Parting— Courteous  Phrases— Parting  Ceremonies — Precedence  in  the 
Street — Taking  the  Arm  of  another  Man— Walking  with  Ladies — Proper 
relative  Position— Opening  Doors,  etc. — "When  meeting  Ladies— Upon  being 
stopped  by  a  Lady— Manner  to  a  Stranger  Lady— When  you  wish  to  Speak 
with  a  Lady  in  the  Street — When  wishing  to  join  a  Lady  in  her  Promenade — 
Proper  Caution  in  this  respect — Rule  respecting  the  Recognition  of  a  Lady — 
An  Awkward  Third— Considerations  due  to  Ladies  in  case  of  Street-Acci- 
dents— Courtesy  to  Ladies  who  are  alighting  from  a  Carriage — Custom  of 
ofTering  the  Arm  to  Ladies  in  the  Street,  when  ascending  Steps,  etc. — On 
entering  Church,  etc.,  with  Ladies — As  one  of  a  Travelling- Party,  etc. — Gait 
in  walking  with  elderly  Persons  or  Ladies  generally — Staring  at  Ladies  in 
Public  Places — Manner  to  Ladies  entering  an  Opera  House,  at  a  Pump- 
Room,  etc. — Audible  Comments  upon  Strangers,    ..,,,,    128 

SKETCHES   ILLUSTRATIVE  OF  MANNERS. 

The  "  Cut  "  Portuguese.— Newspapers  and  Coffee — West  Point  and  a  Discus- 
sion—A Foreigner's  Revenge, 135 

The  Broken  Fan :  a  Lady's  Lament, 186 

The  "Iron  Duke,"  and  Youthful  Reminiscences, 187 

Unexpected  Rencontre — A  Stroll  and  a  Compliment — A  Gentleman  of  the  Old 
School  in  the  Street— A  Tribute— A  Daughter's  Boast— A  Wedding— The 
Bridal  Tour— The  Rail- Car— An  Intruder— True  Politeness— The  Glass  of 

Medical-water — The  Denouement, 137 

The  Lktter-Box.  —  An  Exciting  Exclamation — A  Group  for  a  Painter— A 
Query  —  Entreaties — An  Explanatory  Prelude — The  Fruitless  Search— The 
Appeal— A  Dialogue — An  Admission— Musical  Sounds — A  Prosy  Inquiry — 
The  Summing  up — The  Damper — The  Wish  of  a  True  Woman — An  Insinua- 
tion— A  Description  drawn  from  Life — A  Valuable  Portrait^ — A  Tribute  to 
American  Gentlemen — An  Illustration — Stage  Politeness  to  a  Lady — Acted 

Poetry :  the  Poetry  of  Real  Life  ! 141 

The  Prisoner  op  the  Colliseum. — A  Moonlight  Walk — A  Secret  Appeal — The 
Fair  Epicurean  —  The  Recitation — An  Apparition  —  The  Lasso — A  Witty 
Reply— The  Guerdon — The  Clarion-note— A  Brilliant  — Horseback  on  the 
Campagnia  of  Rome — The  Pope's  Cort6ge — A  Recognition — A  Denouement — 
A  Confession  and  the  Retort  Courteous— A  Sudden  Transformation— The 
Beautiful  Arm— Powers'  Studio— The  Artist's  Discovery— An  Intimation,     .  149 


XIV  CONTENTS. 


LETTER  VI. 

MANNER— (  Continued.) 

BULBS  TO  BK  0B3BRVBD  IN  MAKINQ  MOBNIKQ  VISITS,  AND  IN  SOCIETY  OENKBAUr. 

Ayersion  to  Ceremonious  Morning  Visits— Proper  Hours — Suitable  Brevity — 
Character  of  Conversation — Card  of  Announcement — Visits  made  at  Hotels 
—Precautionary  Rules — Mode  of  entering  a  Drawiug-Room — Drawing- 
Roora  Rules — When  Meeting  other  Visitors — When  interrupted — When  wish- 
ing to  leave  a  Message  or  make  an  Appointment,  etc. — Proper  Courtesy 
when  Visitors  are  taking  Leave — Short  Visits  of  mere  Ceremony — Attendance 
upon  Ladies  making  Morning  Visits — Attentions  Suitable — Introducing — 
Ladies  to  take  precedence  in  rising  to  go  away — Gentlemen  calling  together 
— Dress,  etc., — When  awaiting  Ladies  in  a  Public  Parlor — Standing  when 
Ladies  are  Standing— Offering  the  Arm— Suitable  Gait— Minutia  of  Politeness 
— Morning  Wedding-Receptions — Whom  you  should  Congratulate — General 
Directions — Tact  and  Good  Taste — Leaving  Cards — Visits  on  New- Year's  Day 
— Ceremonious  Intercourse  with  Superiors — Manner  at  Church — Mrs.  Cha- 
pone's  Rule — Self-possession  one  of  the  Distinctive  Characteristics  of  Good- 
Breeding — Whispering,  Laughing,  Staring,  etc  ,  to  be  avoided — Retaining 
the  Hat  not  admissible — Salutations  at  Church — Attending  Ladies  at  Con- 
certs, Lectures,  Opera,  etc.  etc. — Propriety  of  Retaining  the  Seat  you  take  on 
Entering — Incommoding  Others — Courtesy  due  to  Those  near  you — Manner 
of  well-bred  Persons  in  a  Picture  Gallery,  etc., — Reverence  due  to  the 
Beautiful  and  the  Good — Partaking  of  Refreshments  in  Public  Places — Dis- 
courtesy of  any  Semblance  of  Intrusiveness — Etiquette  in  Joining  a  Party 
— Politeness  not  to  be  laid  aside  in  Business-intercourse — Elaborate  cere- 
mony unsuitable,  at  times — The  Secret  of  Popularity — Manner  at  a  Public 
Table — Courtesy  to  Others— Self-importance  a  Proof  of  Vulgarity—"  Fast " 
Feeding — Pardonable  Luxuriousnesss — Staring — Listening  to  Private  Con- 
versations—Rudeness of  Loud  Talking  and  Laughing,  Slirugs,  Glances,  or 
Whispers — Courtesy  due  to  a  Lady  entering  a  Dining-Room — To  Older  Per- 
sons— Meeting  or  passing  Ladies  in  Public  Houses— Influence  of  Trifles  in 
the  Formation  of  Character— Frequent  Discourtesy  in  ignoring  the  Presence 
of  Ladies  in  Public  Parlors,  etc.  etc.— Politeness  due  to  Women,  in  Practical 
Emei-gencies- Nocturnal  Peccadilloes— Travelling— True  Rules— Courtesy 
to  Ladies,  to  Age,  to  the  Suffering— Indecorum  of  using  Tobacco,  etc.  etc., 
in  Public  Conveyances— Ceremony  a  Shield,  but  not  an  Excuse— A  Challenge 

Extraordinary — Anecdote  of  P- ,  the  Poet^ — Practice  and  Tact  essential 

to  secure  Polish  of  Manner — Life-long  Stumbling — Practical  Rules,  the 
result  of  Annoying  Experience— Carriage  Hire — Driving  with  Ladies,  etc., — 
Manner  in  Social  Intercourse — As  Host — Etiquette  of  Dinners  at  Home — 
Precedence — Distinguished  Guests— A  Lady — A  Gentleman — Reception  and 
Introduction  of  Guests — True  Hospitality  as  Host,  better  than  mere  Cere- 
mony— Manner  towards  those  unacquainted  with  Conventional  Rules — 
Manner  at  Routs,  at  Home — Attention  to  Guests  compatible  with  good  ton 
—Anecdote — Respect  to  be  rendered  to  all  one's  Aquaintancea  in  General 


CONTENTS.  XV 

Socfely— To  Married  Ladies— To  Strangers— The  Distinction  thus  Exhibited 
between  the  Under-bred  and  the  genuine  Man  of  the  World — ^No  one  entitled 
to  Self-Excuses  in  this  Regard 16T 

ANKCDOTES,  SKETCHES,  KTO. 

A  PR0PHB8T.— Table-Tallc— A  Rescue  and  a  Lady's  Gratitude— Jealousy  Dis- 
armed— Backwoodsmen — Cordiality— Costume  and  Courtesy — Retort  Cour- 
teous— An  Interpolation  and  a  Protest — Mr.  Clay's  Popularity  with  the  Fair 
—Secret  of  his  Success  in  Society — Mr.  Clay  and  the  Belle  Esprit — A  Defi- 
nition of  Politeness— A  Comical  Illustration— A  Pun— A  well-turned  Com- 
pliment— Unconsciousness  of  Self — A  Stranger's  Impressions — A  Poetic 
Tribute 1T9 

The  Detoteb  of  the  BsAnTiFUL. — A  Morning  Drive— Anticipation— Spiritual 
Enjoyment — Discord — A  Disappointment, 184- 

The  Soldier's  Wifh  and  the  Ghoul. — A  Journey — The  truly  Braye— The 
Arrival — A  Chapter  of  Accidents — Self-Reproach— The  Ghoul— The  Calm- 
ness of  Despair — The  Versatility  of  Woman — But  a  Step  from  the  Sublime  to 
the  Ridiculous — The  Ghoul  again — A  Defiant  Spirit — Punctilious  Ceremony,  186 

A  Fair  Champion.— A  Query  and  its  Solution— A  Sketch — Raillery— A  Tete-a- 
Tete — An  Interruption — "  Fashionable  "  Hospitality — Genuine  Hospitality — 
A  Mother's  Advice— An  indignant  Spirit— Rebellion, 193 

The  Man  of  One  Idea. — Au  Object  for  Worship— A  Soiree — A  Polite  Collo- 
quy— The  Host  at  Ease — A  pleasing  Hostess— The  Climax,  .        .        ,  198 

Young  America— an  Anecdote,  200 

The  Practical  Philosopher.— A  handsome  Aristocrat — An  Accusation — 
A  Courteous  Neighbor — Fall  of  a  "  Fixed  Star  " — Favorite  Aphorism  of  Mrs. 
Combe — The  Daughter  of  the  Siddons, 801 

LETTER  VII. 

HEALTH. 
the  toilet,  as  connected  with  health. 
The  True  Basis  of  Health — Temperance  an  inclusive  Term — Foundation  of  the 
Eminence  of  J.  Q.  Adams — His  Life  a  Model  for  the  Young — His  early  Habits 
— Vigorous  Old  Age — Example  of  Franklin  in  regard  to  Temperance — 
Illustrations  afforded  by  our  National  History— The  Bath — Varying  Opi- 
nions and  Constitutions — Imprudent  use  of  the  Bath— Bishop  Heber — 
General  Directions— The  Art  of  Swimming— Sponging— Deficiencies  of  the 
Toilet  in  England — Collateral  Benefits  arising  from  habitual  Sponge-bath- 
ing—The  Hair— All  Fantastic  Dressing  of  the  Hair  in  bad  taste — Use  of 
Pomades — Vulgarity  of  using  Strong  Perfumes — The  Teetli — Use  of  Tobacco 
— Smoke  Dispellers — The  Nails — The  Feet — A  complete  Wardrobe  essential 
to  Health— Early  Rising — Its  manifold  Advantages — Example  of  Washington, 
Franklin,  etc.,  in  this  respect — Daniel  Webster's  Eulogy  upon  Morning- 
Retiring  early — Truth  of  a  Medical  Dogma — Opposition  of  Fashion  and 
Health — Early  Hours  essential  to  the  Student — Importance  of  the  early  Ac- 
quisition of  Correct  Habits  in  this  Regard — Illustration — A  combination  of 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

Right  Habits  essential  to  Health— Exercise— Walking— Pure  Air— The  Lungs 
of  »  City— Superiority  of  Morning  Air— An  Erect  Carriage  of  the  Body  in 
Walking— Periodical  Exercise— Necessary  Caution— The  Unwise  Student — A 
Warning — A  Knowledge  of  Dietetics  and  Physiology  requisite  to  the  Preser- 
vation of  Health — Suitable  Works  on  these  Subjects— Riding  and  Driving 
the  Accoraplishmenta  of  a  Gentleman — A  Horse  a  desirable  Possession- 
Testimony  of  Dr.  Johnson— The  Pride  of  Skill — Needful  Caution— Judicious 
Selection  of  Ijocale  for  these  Modes  of  Exercise— Dr.  Beatie's  Tribute  to 
Nature — Importance  of  Temperance  in  Eating  and  Drinking,  as  regards 
Health— The  Cultivation  of  Simple  Tastes  in  Eating— Proper  Preparation  of 
Food  important  to  Health — Re-action  of  the  Human  Constitution — Effect  of 
Bodily  Health  upon  the  Mind — The  pernicious  Use  of  Condiments,  etc.,  etc. 
Young  Ambition's  Laddkr.— Hours  for  Meals — Dining  Late— Injurious  Eflfects 
of  Prolonged  Abstinence — The  Stimulus  of  Distension — Repletion — Neces- 
sity of  deliberate  and  thorough  Mastication — Judicious  Use  of  Time  in 
Eating — The  Use  of  Wine,  Tobacco,  etc. — The  truly  Free! — Dr.  Johnson's 
Opinion — Novel  Argument  against  the  Habits  of  Smoking  and  Drinking — 
Advice  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  to  the  Young — Then  and  Now— Council  of  a 
"Looker-on"  in  this  Utilitarian  Age — Erroneous  Impressions — Authority 
of  a  celebrated  Writer— Social  Duties— The  unbent  Bow— Rational  Eqjoy- 
ment  the  wisest  Obedience  to  the  Natural  Laws — A  determined  Pursuit  in 
Life  essential  to  Happiness  and  Health — Too  entire  Devotion  to  a  Single 
Object  of  Pursuit,  unwise — Arcadian  Dreams — Attainable  Realities— Truisms 
— Decay  of  the  Social  and  Domestic  Virtues — Human  Sacrifices — Relaxa- 
tions and  Amusements  requisite  to  Health — Superiority  of  Amusements  in 
the  Open  Air  for  Students  and  Sedentary  Persons  generally — Benefits  of 
Cheerful  Companionship^Objection  to  Games,  etc.,  that  require  Mental 
Exertion— Converse  Rule — Fashionable  Watering-places  ill  adapted  to 
Health — Avocations  of  the  Parmer,  Tastes  as  a  Naturalist,  Travel,  Sport- 
ing, etc.,  recommended— Depraved  Public  Taste— Slavery  to  Fashion — Habits 
of  Europeans,  in  this  respect,  superior  to  our  own — Modern  Degeneracy — 
Folly  thralled  by  Pride, 20* 

ILLUSTRATIVE  SKETCHES  AND   AKECDOTISS. 

To  Give  Etkrnity  to  Time.- The  Senate-Chamber  and  the  Dying  Statesman 
—The  Moral  Sublime, 225 

Joxatuan's  Sins  and  a  Foreigner's  Peccadillo. — Celebrities — Dinner-table 
Sullies — Grave  Charges— Yankee  Rejection  of  Cold  Meats — Self-Preserva- 
tion  the  First  Law  of  Nature  ! — A  Mystery  Solved — National  Impartiality — 
Anecdote— Storming  a  Fort— Successful  Defence,  by  a  Lady,  of  herself! — 
A  Stratagem — The  Daughter  of  a  Gun— An  Explanation — The  Tortures  of 
Outraged  Modesty,  226 

Dr.  Abernethy  and  his  Yankee  Patient, 282 

Cosmopolitan  Chit-Chat.— A  Heterogeneous  Party — The  Golden  Horn — 
Contemplations  in  a  Turkish  Caique — A  Discussion — "  Christian  Dogs"  and 
the  Dogs  of  Constantinople— An  unpleasant  Discovery— A  Magical  Touch— 
The  Song  of  the  Caidjis — A  National  Example, 234 


CONTENTS.  XVll 


Thb  Imvbbtdrbablb  Guest.— a  Dinner-Table  Scene, 
The  Youth  and  the  Philosopher:  Lines  by  Whitehead, 


LETTER  YIII. 

LETTER-WRITINa. 

Importance  of  this  Branch  of  Education — Its  Frequent  Neglect— Usual  Faulta 
of  the  Epistolary  Style — Applicability  of  the  rule  of  the  Lightning-Tamer— 
Variety  of  Styles  appropriate  to  varying  Subjects  and  Occasions — ^Impossi- 
bility of  laying  down  all-inclusive  General  Rules — Requisites  of  Letters  of 
Business— Legibility  in  Caligraphy — AflFectation  in  this  respect — Avoidance 
of  Servile  Imitation — Advantage  of  possessing  a  good  Business-hand — ^Time- 
saving  Importance  of  Rapidity — Letters  of  Introduction — Form  Suitable  for 
Ordinary  Purposes— Specimen  of  Letters  Introducing  a  Person  in  Search  of 
a  Business  Situation,  Place  of  Residence,  etc.,  etc. — Introduction  of  Artists, 
Professional  Men,  etc. — Presenting  a  Celebrity  by  Letter— Proper  Attention 
to  Titles,  Modes  of  abbreviating  Titles,  etc.,  etc. — Letters  of  Introduction  to 
be  unsealed— Manner  of  Delivering  Letters  of  Introduction — Cards,  Enve- 
lopes, Written  Messages,  etc.,  proper  on  such  Occasions — Appointments  and 
due  Courtesy,  etc.— Form  of  Letter  to  a  Lady  of  Fashion — Etiquette  in  regard 
to  Addresses— Letters  Presenting  Foreigners — Personal  Introductions — Com- 
mon Neglect  of  Etiquette   in  this  respect — Proper  Mode  of  Introducing 
Young  Persons,  or  those  of  inferior  social  position — Of  Introducing  Men  to 
Women,  very  Young  Ladies,  etc. — Voice  and  Manner  on  such  Occasions — 
Explanations  due  to  Strangers — Common  Social  Improprieties — American 
Peculiarity — Hotel  Registers,  etc.— Courtesy  due  to  Relations  as  well  as  to 
Strangers — Impropriety  of  indiscriminate  Introductions — Preliminary  Cere- 
monies among  Men — ^In  the  Street — At  Dinners — Evening-Parties— Recep- 
tions— Conventional  Rules  subject  to  Changes,  dictated  by  good-sense — 
Supremacy  of  the  Law  of  Kindness — Visiting  Cards— European  Fashion  of 
Cards — Style  usual  in  America — Place  of  Residence — Phrases  for  Cards — 
Business  Cards :  Ornaments,  Devices,  Color,  Size,  Legibility,  etc. — Letters  of 
Recommendation — Moral  Characteristic— Proper  Style  of  Letters  of  Condo- 
lence— Form  of  Letters  of  Congratulation — Admissibility  of  Brevity— Letters 
to  Superiors — Ceremonious  Form  for  such  Communications— Proper  Mode  of 
Addressing  Entire  Strangers— Common  Error  in  this  respect— Punch's  Sar- 
casm— Diplomats  and  Public  Functionaries  should  be  Models  in  Letter-writ- 
ing— An  Enigma — Diplomatic  Letters — Letters  of  Friendship  and  AfiFection — 
General  Requisites  of  Epistolary  Composition — Letters  a  Means  of  conferring 
and  Receiving  Pleasure — Distinctive  Characteristic  of  the  Epistolary  Style — 
Peccadilloes — Aids  facilitating  the  Practice  in  this  Accomplishment — Notes 
of  Invitation,  Acceptance,  Regret— Observance  of  Usage— Simplicity  the 
best  Um  and  taste — Etiquette  with  regard  to  Invitations  to  Dinner— Courtesy 
in  Matters  of  Social  Life — Error  of  an  American  Author— Ceremony  pro- 
perly preceding  taking  an  uninvited  Friend  to  a  Party — Abstract  good-breed- 
ing the  best  Test  of  Propriety — Proper  form  of  Ceremonious  Notes  of  InTl« 
tatlon— Use  of  the  Third  Person  in  writing  Notes— Mailed  Letters— Local 


X^Vlll  CONTENTS. 

Addresses,  Form  of  Signature,  etc.,  etc.— Requisites  of  Letter- Superscription 
— Writing-Materials— Small  Sheets,  Margins,  etc. — Colored  Paper,  FanciM 
Ornaments,  Initials,  &c. — Envelopes  and  Superscription — Wax,  Seals,  etc. — 
European  Letters— Rule— Promptitude  in  Letter-writing — Study  of  Published 
Models  beneficial  to  the  Young— Scott,  Byron,  Moore,  Horace  Walpole, 
Washington— Sir  W.  W.  Pepys,  etc.— Curiosities  of  the  Epistolary  Style — 
Anticipated  Pleasure, 241 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Thb  Waknino — A  Skbtch  of  Nile-Travbl.— a  Group  and  a  Dialogue  amid 
the  Ruins  of  Thebes — Mustapha  Aga  and  the  Temple  of  Karnac — The  Arri- 
val— The  Distribution — Delights,  Disappointments,  and  Despair,   ,        .        .  268 

Anecdote  of  the  Mighty  Wizard  of  the  North, 27» 

A  DBA  wing-Room  Cotbrik  op  Criticism.— The  Library  and  the  Intruder- 
Paternal  Authority — Condemnation — Comments  and  Criticisms — A  Compli- 
ment— A  fair  Bevy— Wit  and  Wisdom— Sport  and  Seriousness— A  Model  Note 
and  a  Fair  Eulogist— Paternal  Approbation— What  American  Merchants 
should  be — An  Anecdote — Discoveries  and  Accessions — Apropos — Fair  Play 
and  a  Ritse — A  Group  of  Critics — An  Invitation— A  Rival— An  Explanation 
and  an  Admission— A  Rescue  and  Retreat — An  Old  Man's  Privilege— Seven- 
teen and  Eighty-two — May  and  December, 278 

The  First  Billet-Doux, 284 

LETTER  IX. 
ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 
Comparative  Importance  of  Accomplishments — DiflFerence  between  Europeans 
and  Americans  in  this  regard — Self-Education  the  most  Useful — Peculiar 
Incentives  to  Self-Culture  ijossessed  by  Americans — Cultivation  of  a  Taste 
for  the  Ideal  Arts — Desirableness  of  a  Knowledge  of  Drawing — Incidental 
Benefit  resulting  from  the  Practice  of  this  Art — A  Taste  for  Music — Mistalcea 
Conceptions  of  the  Importance  of  this  Accomplishment — Advantage  of  learn- 
ing Dancing — Desirableness  of  Riding  and  Driving — Various  Athletic  Exer- 
cises—A ready  and  graceful  Elocution  of  great  Importance— A  Source  of 
Social  Enjoyment — The  Art  of  Conversation — Use  of  Slang  Phrases— Dis- 
advantages of  Occasional  Lenity  towards  the  Corruptions  of  Language — The 
only  Safe  Rule — Common  want  of  Conversational  Power — The  Superiority 
of  the  French  over  all  other  People  in  this  Respect— The  Salons  of  Paris — 
Pleasures  of  the  Ganaillo — French  Children — Practice  essential  to  Success— 
The  Embellishments  of  Conversation — Habits  of  a  Celebrated  Talker — • 
Anecdote  of  Sheridan — Some  Prei)aration  not  Unsuitable  before  going  into 
Society — Qualities  most  essential  to  secure  Popularity  in  General  Society — 
The  "  Guilt  of  giving  Pain  " — Avoidance  of  Personalities — The  Language 
of  Compliment— Two  Good  Rules — Reprehensibleness  of  the  Habit  of 
Indulging  in  Gossip,  Scandal,  or  Puerile  Conversation — The  Records  of 
"  Heaven's  High  Chancery  " — Importance  of  Exact  Truthfulness  in  Conver» 
nation — The  Capacity  of  adapting  Language  to  Occasions  of  ImportiwicA  - 


CONTENTS.  XUK 

Vm  of  Foreign  Phrases  or  Words— Tact  and  Good-Breeding  the  Safest 
Guides  in  such  Matters — Advantage  of  the  Companionship  of  Cultivated 
Persons,  in  Promoting  Conversational  Skill — Misuse  of  Strong  Language — 
Conversational  Courtesies— Aphorism  by  Mr.  Madison — Modesty  Proper  to 
the  Young  in  this  Respect — Bad  taste  of  talking  of  one's  self  in  Society — The 
World  an  Unsuitable  Confidant — Quotation  from  Carlyle — Sympathy  with 
Others— The  softer  graces  of  Social  Intercourse — Cheerfulness  universally 
Agreeable— A  Glee  in  which  Everybody  can  join— Anecdote — Human  Sun- 
beams-Judicious selection  of  Conversational  Topics— Avoidance  of 
Assumption  and  Dictatorialness— Proper  Regard  for  the  Right  of  Opinion — 
Courtesy  due  to  Ladies  and  Clergymen— Folly  of  Promulgating  Peculiarities 
of  Religious  Opinion— Rudeness  of  manifesting  Undue  Curiosity  respecting 
the  Affairs  of  Others — Boasting  of  Friends — Anecdote — Quickness  at  Re- 
partee, one  of  the  Colloquial  Graces — Dean  Swift  and  his  "  fellow  " — Anec- 
dote of  the  Elder  Adams— A  Ready  and  Graceful  Reply  to  a  Compliment  not 
to  be  Disregarded  among  the  Elegancies  of  Conversation — The  Retort 
Courteous — Lady  Hamilton  and  Lord  Nelson — Specimens  of  Polite  Phrase- 
ology— General  Conversation  with  Ladies — Essential  Characteristics  of 
Light  Conversation — Improprieties  and  Familiarities — Disagreeable  Peculi- 
arities—A Dismal  Character— Anecdote  of  Cuvier — Tact  in  Avoiding  Per- 
sonal Allusions— Peculiarity  of  American  Society — Ages  of  the  Loves  and 
Graces — A  Young  Jonathan  and  an  English  Girl — Violation  of  Confidence 
— Sacredness  of  Private  Conversations— Politeness  of  a  Ready  Compliance 
with  the  Wishes  of  Others  in  Society 286 

nXUSTSATIVB  ANECDOTES  AND  SK>rrCHES. 

Bang  Froid  and  Sandwiches.— A  Ride  with  a  Duke— The  eager  young  Sports- 
man— A  Rencontre— A  Query  and  a  Response — A  substantial  Bonne  Bouche.  312 

A  Frenchman's  Relaxation 314 

Polemics  and  Politeness— Watering-place  Society— Omnibus  Orations— Sul- 
phur-water and  Sacrifices — Religionists,  Ladies  and  License,  Reaction  and 

Remorse.     ...        * S15 

An  unexpected  Declaration— Parisian  furore — The  unknown  Patient— Prac- 
tice and  Pathos 817 

The  Three  Graces — Honor  to  whom  Honor  was  Due — A  Group  for  a  Sculptor 

—Woman's  Wit 818 

Scene  in  a  Drawing-room 820 

Musical  Mania— Guitar  playing  and  the  play  of  Intellect 321 

A  Fair  Discussion  .        ,        • 828 

National  Dialect— A  Bagatelle 824 

A  Murillo  and  a  Living  Study — A  Morning  in  the  Louvre  with  a  congenial 

Friend— A  Painter's  Advice — True  Epicureanism. 826 

Ready  Elocution  and  Ready  Wit— A  Congressional  Sketch 82T 


SX  CONTENTS 

LETTER    X. 

HABIT. 

Habit  always  Indicative  of  Character— Its  Importance  not  properly  esti- 
mated by  the  Young— Rudeness  and  Republicanism  too  often  Synonymous- 
Fashion  not  always  Good-breeding— Social  American  Peculiarities— Man- 
ners of  Americans  abroad — Rowdyism  at  the  Tuileries — The  Propriety  of 
Learning  from  Older  Nations  the  lighter  Elegancies  of  Life— Madame  Soul6 
and  the  Queen  of  Spain— The  tie  of  a  Cravat  and  the  Affairs  of"  Change" — 
George  Peabody  a  Model  American — The  distinctive  name  of  Gentleman — 
Great  Importance  of  Suitable  Associates — Spanish  Proverb^The  true  Social 
Standard — Safeguard  against  Eccentricity— Habits  of  Walliing,  Standing, 
Sitting — Directions — Aaron  Burr  and  De  Witt  Clinton — Bachelor  Privileges- 
Decorum  in  the  presence  of  Ladies — Carrying  the  Hat,  ease  of  Attitude,  etc. 
—Benefits  of  habitual  Self-Restraint— Habits  at  Table— Eating  with  a  Knife 
•-Soiling  the  Lips,  Piclfing  the  Teeth,  etc.,  etc. — Nicety  in  Matters  of  Detail — 
Courtesy  due  to  others — Manner  to  Servants  in  Attendance  at  Table — 
J  Avoidance  of  Sensuousness  of  Manner — French  Mode  of  Serving  Dinners- 
The  Art  of  Carving— Helping  Ladies  at  Table — Rule  in  Carving  Joints  of 
Meat — Changing  the  Plate — Proper  Mode  of  Taking  Fish — Game — Butter  at 
Dinner — English  Custom — Details  of  Habit  at  Table — Rights  of  Freemen — A 
Just  Distinction — Unhealthfulness  of  drinking  too  much  at  Dinner — Fast 
Eating  of  Fast  Americans — Sitting  upon  two  Legs  of  a  Chair — Anecdote — 
Habits  of  using  the  Handkerchief— Toying  with  the  Moustache,  etc.,  etc. — 
Ladies  careful  Observers  of  Minuti» — Belief  of  the  Ancient  Gauls  respecting 
Women — Habits  of  Swaggering  in  Public  Places — General  Suggestions — 
Ladies  and  Invalids  in  Terror  of  a  Human  War-Horse— Courtesy  due  while 
playing  Chess  and  other  Games — Self-control  in  Sickness — Premature  adop- 
tion of  Eye-Glasses — Affectation  in  this  respect — Proper  Attitude  while 
Reading  or  Studying — Habits  of  Early  Rising — A  Poetic  Superstition  unwar- 
ranted by  Health  and  Trutli— Variance  between  Healtli  and  Fashion  in 
regard  to  Early  Hours — Aphorism  by  Gibbon— Habit  of  taking  Nostrums — 
Avoidance  of  Quacks— Habit  of  acting  as  the  Protectors  of  the  Dependent 
Sex — Effect  of  Trifling  Habits  upon  the  Opinions  formed  of  us  by  Women- 
Habits  of  handling  Prints,  Bijouterie,  and  Boquets,  of  Smoking,  Whispering 
and  Ogling,  to  be  shunned— Importance  of  Methodical  Habits  of  Reading 
and  Studying— Value  of  the  Gold  Dust  of  Time — Anecdote — True  Rule  for 
Reading  to  Advantage — Habit  of  Reading  aloud — Great  Importance  of  a 
Habit  of  Industry — The  Superiors  of  mere  Genius — Habits  of  Cheerfulness 
and  Contentment  not  to  be  overlooked  by  the  Young — Cultivation  of  Habi- 
tual Self-Respect — Pride  and  Poverty  not  Necessarily  Antagonistic— Self- 
Respect  a  Shield  against  the  Shafts  of  Calumny— True  Honor  not  affected  by 
Occupation  or  Position — Benefits  of  a  Habit  of  Self-  Examination — The  habi- 
tual Study  of  the  Scriptures  recommended— Christ,  the  Great  Model  of  Hu- 
manity—  Ungentlemanly  Habit  of  being  late  at  Church,  etc. — Pernicious 
Effects  of  prevalent  Materialism— P«rsc)Dal  Ei^joyment  resulting  from  babitu* 


CONTENTS.  XXI 

ally  Idealizing  all  Mental  Associations  with  Women— Defencelessness  an 
Impassable  Barrier  to  Oppression  from  true  Manliood — Impropriety  of 
Bpealiing  loudly  to  Ladies  in  public  Places,  of  attracting  Attention  to  them, 
their  Names  and  Prerogatives — Safe  Rule  in  this  regard— The  Habit  of  Sym- 
pathy with  Human  Suffering  a  Christian  duty — Mistaken  Opinion  of  Young 
Men  in  this  respect — The  Examples  presented  by  the  Lives  of  the  Greatly 
Good — Mighty  Achievements  in  the  Cause  of  Humanity  in  the  Power  of  a 
Few— Habits  of  Good-Humor,  Neatness,  Order  and  Regularity  due  to  others — 
Fastidious  Nicety  in  Matters  of  the  Toilet,  demanded  by  proper  respect  for 
our  daily  Associates — The  Importance  of  Habits  of  Exercise,  Temperance 
and  Relaxation — Economy  to  be  Cultivated  as  a  Habit — Economy  not  De- 
grading—  Habit  of  Punctuality— Slavery  to  mere  System  condemned — 
Remark  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds— Habit  of  Perseverance — Value  of  tho 
Habit  of  putting  Ideas  into  Words — Of  Habits  of  Reflection  and  Observa- 
tion— Of  rendering  Respect  to  Age,  etc. — Culture  of  Esthetical  Perceptions — 
American  Peculiarity— Curiosity  not  tolerated  among  the  well-bred— The 
inestimable  value  of  Self-Possession— Its  Natural  Manifestations — Concluding 
Advice, 829 

ILLUSTllATIONS. 

ONATHAN  AND  QuEBN  "'^icTORi A .— A  StroU  through  the  World's  Palace— A 

Royal  Party — The  Yankee  Enthroned — A  Confession, 3G2 

"lAMON  AND  Ptthias  Modkrnizkd.  —  A  Family  Council— A  Celebrity  and  a 
Hotel  Dinner — A  Discovery — A  Sketch — Telegraphing  and  Triumph — Beer 
and  a  Break-down— Drawing-room  Chit-chat— A  Young  Lady's  Eulogy — 
Retort  Courteous — A  New  Acquaintance — An  Explanation  —  Dinner  the 
Second — Sense  and  Sensibility — A  Ruse — A  Request  and  Appointment — A 
Contrast — Catastrophy — A  Note  and  a  Disappointment — Fair  Frankness — 
An  Unexpected  Rencontre — The  Re-union— Pictures  and  Pleasantries— The 

Protector  of  the  Helpless, 363 

A  Visit  to  Abbotsford.— Sir  Walter  Scott  as  Colonel  of  Dragoons,  Sheriff  of 
the  County,  Host,  Friend,  and  Author — Mrs.  Hemans  and  Little  "Charley" 
—Courteous    Hospitality — At  Driburg  with  Mr.  Lockhart— Solution  of  a 

Mystery — Sir  Walter's  favorite  "  Lieutenant," 882 

Confession  of  a  Celebrated  Orator, 385 

Thb  Lemon  and  thk  Carnation. — A  Stage-Coach  Adventure — A  fair  Passen- 
ger— Churlishness  and  Cheerfulness— A  Comic  Duet  —  Stage-Sickness— An 
impromptu  Physician — Offerings — Acknowledgments — A  Docile  Patient — 
Welcome  Home — Arrival — A  Family  Group — A  Discovery — Recognition — 
An  Invitation- Hospitality— Sunday  Evening  at  the  Rectory— The  Honora- 
ble Occupation  of  Teaching  Young  Ladies— A  Prophesy— Family  Jars— A 

Compliment, 886 

A  Notability  and  his  Newfoundland  Dog, 400 

ErTRKMBS  Mbkt.  —  European  Travelling-Companion — A  cool  Place  and  a 
"cool"  Character- A  Foreigner's  Criticism— Fair  Commentators— Dinner- 
table  Sketch— Three  Parties  in  a  Rail-Car — Sunshine  and  Showers— An  Earth- 


XXll  CONTENTS. 

Angel— Anecdote  of  Thorwalsden,  the  Danish  Sculptor— A  Scene— Gentle- 
manly Inquiries— Paddy's  Explanation,   ........  401 

Havb  tou  been  Impatient? — A  Broken  Engagement— About  a  Horse— Char- 
ley's Orphan  Cousin— Ideas  of  Luxury— Novel  Experiences — The  freed  Bird 
—Bless  God  for  Flowers  and  Friends !— A  Recoil— A  Tirade— The  Bird  Re- 
caged— Self-Examination— Retrospection  and  Resolution— A  Note  and  a 
Boquet— A  Blush  Transfixed, 41S 

LETTER  XI. 

MENTAL  AND  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

The  Author's  Conscious  Incapacity— Education  within  the  Power  of  All— 
Americans  not  Socially  Trammelled — The  Two  Attributes  of  Mind  essential 
to  Self-Culture— Prospective  Discernment — The  most  enlightened  System  of 
Education — Duty  of  Cultivating  the  Moral  as  well  as  the  Intellectual  Nature 
— The  Acquisition  of  Wealth  not  to  be  regarded  as  the  highest  Human 
Attainment— Definition  of  Self-Culture — Reading  for  Amusement  only, 
Unwise — "Aid-s  and  Appliances"  of  Judicious  Reading— Example  of  a 
Great  Man— Fictitious  Literature — Pernicious  Effects  often  resulting  from 
a  Taste  for  Light  Reading— Condemnation  of  Licentious  Novels — Advantages 
of  Noting  Choice  Passages  in  Reading— Carlyle's  Critieism  of  Public  Men— 
Tlie  Study  of  History  of  Great  Importance — Benefits  resulting  from  the 
Perusal  of  well-selected  Biographies — Enumeration  of  celebrated  Works  of 
this  Character— Newspaper  and  Magazine  Reading— A  Cultivated  Taste  in 
Literature  and  Art  the  result  of  thorough  Mental  Training— AfiFectation  and 
Pretention  iu  this  regard  to  be  avoided — Critical  Assumption  condemned — 
Impressions  produced  upon  observing  Judges  by  a  Pretentious  Manner— 
"The  World's  Dread  Laugh" — Advantages  of  Foreign  Travel — Misuse  of 
this  Advantage— Knowledge  of  Modern  Languages  essential  to  a  complete 
Education — False  Impression  prevalent  on  this  point — Philosophic  Wisdom 
— Wise  Covetousness — Tact  the  Result  of  General  Self-Culture— An  Individual 
Moral  Code  of  advantage — Example  of  Washington — Education  not  com- 
pleted by  a  Knowledge  of  Books — Definition  of  True  Education — The  Deve- 
lopment of  the  Moral  Perceptions  promotive  of  Intellectual  Advancement — 
Undue  Exaltation  of  Talent  over  Virtue — Religious  Faith  the  legitimate 
Result  of  rightly-directed  Education— Needful  Enlightenment  of  Conscience 
—The  Life  of  Jesus  Christ  the  best  Moral  Guide-Book— Charity  to  the  Faults 
of  others  the  Result  of  Self-Knowledge — The  Golden  Rule  of  the  Great 
Teacher — The  highest  Aim  of  Humanity — Reverence  for  the  Spiritual  Nature 
of  Man  the  Result  of  Self-Culture — Danger  of  Self-indulgence  in  regard  to 
trifling  Errors— Caution  against  the  Infidel  Philosophy  of  the  Times — The 
establishment  of  Fixed  Principles  of  Action— The  True  Mode  of  computing 

Life,  . 42S 

Apollo  turned  Author :  a  Bagatelle,  .       .       * 488 

The  Attainment  of  Knowledge  under  Difficulties— Necessity  the  Nurse  of  True 
Greatness — The  Learned  Blacksmith— The  Wagoner — The  Mill-Boy  of  the 
Slashes— Franklin  and  Webster,       .       , 480 


CONTENTS.  xxiii 

A.  Peep  at  Passers-by,  from  the  "  Loopholes  of  Retreat,"  .       .       .       ,440 

The  Force  of  Genius— A  Man  about  Town— Anecdote— Manly  Indignation,     .  441 

Old-Fashioned  Honor, ^  4^2 

Webster  on  Biblical  Studies, ]  443 

The  Young  Frenchman  and  the  Pyramids, 443 

Pbcoadillobs  and  Ponctiliousnbss.— Extract— Sir  Humphrey  Davy— Tribute 
to  Religion, ^^ 

LETTER  XII. 

CHOICE  OF  COMPANIONS  AND  FRIENDS,— SELECTION  OP  A  PURSUIT 
IN  LIFE.—  COURTSHIP.—  MARRIAGE.—  HOUSEKEEPING.—  PECUNIARY 
MATTERS. 

ROLK  to  be  observed  in  the  Selection  of  Associates— Advantage  of  the  Com- 
panionship of  Persons  of  more  Experience  than  Ourselves— False  Senti- 
ments entertained  by  Lord  Byron  regarding  Friendship— Self-Consciousness 
affords  the  best  Contradiction  to  these  Erroneous  Opinions— Value  of 
Friendship- Importance  of  the  Judicious  Selection  of  Confidants- Folly  of 
demanding  Perfection  in  one's  Friends— Selection  of  Employment— The  first 
Consideration  in  this  Relation— Thorough  Education  should  not  be  confined 
to  Candidates  for  the  Learned  Professions— The  Merchant  Princes  of 
America— Avenues  for  Effort- AU  Honest  Occupations  dignified  by  Right 
Conduct— The  Pursuit  of  Wealth  as  an  End— Freedom  the  Prerogative  of 
the  Worker— A  Professional  Manner  Condemned— Individual  Insignificance 
—Advantages  of  Early  Marriage— Cause  of  prevalent  Domestic  Unhappiness 
—Each  Individual  the  best  Judge  of  his  own  Conjugal  Requisites— Health, 
Good-Temper,  and  Education  essential  in  a  Wife— Accomplishments  not 
essential  to  Domestic  Happiness— Disadvantages  resulting  from  a  previous 
Fashionable  Career— A  True  Wife— Respect  due  to  the  proper  Guardians 
of  a  Lady  by  her  Suitor— Advantages  of  a  Friendship  with  a  Married  Lady 
—Reserve  and  Respect  of  Manner  due  to  Female  Friends— Manly  Frankness 
as  a  Suitor  the  only  Honorable  Course— Attachment  to  one  Woman  no  Ex- 
cuse for  Rudeness  to  others— The  Art  of  Pleasing— Presents,  Complimentary 
Attentions,  etc.— Nicety  of  Perception  usual  in  Women— Power  of  the  Law 
of  Kindness  in  Home-Life— The  Slightest  Approach  to  Family  Dissension  to 
be  carefully  avoided— The  Duty  of  a  Husband  to  exert  a  Right  Influence 
over  his  Wife— Union  of  Spirit  the  only  Satisfying  Bond— More  than  Roman 
Sternness  assumed  by  some— Sacredness  of  all  the  Better  Emotions  of  the 
Human  Heart— Expressive  Synonymes— Pecuniary  Matters— The  Pernicious 
EflTects  of  Boarding— An  Old  Man's  Advice— Household  Gods— Propriety  of 
Providing  for  Future  Contingencies— Slavery  imposed  by  Pride  and  Poverty- 
Comfort  and  Refinement  compatable  with  Moderate  Resources — Books  and 
Works  of  Art  to  be  preferred  to  Fine  Furniture— Importance  of  Cherishing 
the  Esthetical  Tastes  of  Children— "  Keeping  "  a  great  Desideratum  in  Social 
and  Domestic  Life, 44T 


XXIV  CONTENTS. 


IIXCSTnATITB  SKKTCUBS,  BTO. 


Tub  Mooted  Poiht. — A  Morning  Visit  and  Morning  Occupations — Macaulay 
and  the  Blanket  Coat— Curate's  Daughters  and  the  Daughters  of  New- 
England — A  Sybarite — A  Disclaimer  and  a  Witticism— Not  a  Gentleman — 
"  Trifles  make  the  sum  of  Human  Things" — The  Slough  of  Despond— A  Gift 
—Reading  Poetry— A  Soldier's  Tactics— The  "Unpardonable  Sin"— A  Fair 

Champion  and  a  Noble  Sentiment,  463 

Anecdotes  of  a  British  Minister,  an  Ex-Governor,  and  an  American  Statesman,  470 

Chief-Justice  Marshall  and  the  Toung  Man  of  Fashion, 472 

Habits  of  Early  Friends, 478 

Thb  Prophbot  FuLFiLLKD.— a  Denouement — Cupid  turned  Carrier— Wedding- 
Cards  and  Welcome  News— A  True  Woman's  Letter, 47ft 

Uncle  Hal's  Farewell,  480 


THE 


AMERICAN  GENTLEMAN'S  GUIDE. 


LETTEK   I. 


DKESS 


My  dear  yoijng  Fkiends  : — 

As  you  are  already,  to  some  extent, 
acquainted  with  tlie  design  and  scope  of  the  Let- 
ters I  propose  to  address  to  you,  there  is  no  neces- 
sity for  an  elaborate  prelude  at  the  commencement 
of  the  series. 

We  will,  with  your  permission,  devote  our  attention 
first  to  Dress — to  the  external  man — and  advance,  in 
accordance  with  the  true  rules  of  Art,  gradually, 
towards  more  important  subjects. 

Whatever  may  be  the  abstract  opinions  indivi- 
dually entertained  respecting  the  taste  and  regard  for 
comfort  evinced  in  the  costume  now,  with  trifling 
variations,  almost  universally  adopted  by  men  in  all 

2 


26 


civilized  lands,  few  will  dispute  the  practical  utility 
of  conforming  to  the  general  requisitions  of  Fashion. 

Happily  for  the  gratification  of  fancy,  however,  the 
all-potent  goddess,  arbitrary  and  imperative  as  are  her 
laws,  permits,  at  least  to  some  extent,  such  variations 
from  her  general  standard  as  personal  convenience, 
physical  peculiarities,  or  varying  circumstances  may 
require. 

But  a  due  regard  for  these  and  similar  considera- 
tions by  no  means  involves  the  exhibition  of  eccetv- 
ti'icitT/,  which  I  hold  to  be  inconsistent  with  good 
taste,  whether  displayed  in  dress  or  manner. 

A  violation  of  the  established  rules  of  Convention 
cannot  easily  be  defended,  except  when  required  by 
our  obligations  to  the  more  strenuous  requirements 
of  duty.  Usually,  however,  departures  from  conven- 
tional propriety  evince  simply  an  ill-regulated  char- 
acter. CThe  Laws  of  Convention,  like  all  wise  laws, 
are  instituted  to  promote  "  the  greatest  good  of  the 
greatest  number.')  They  constitute  a  Code  of  Polite- 
ness and  Propriety  J  adapted  to  the  promotion  of 
social  convenience,  varying  somewhat  with  local  cir- 
cumstances, it  may  be,  but  everywhere  substantially 
the  same.  It  is  common  to  talk  of  the  eccentricities 
of  genius,  as  though  they  are  essential  concomitants 
of  genius  itself.  I^othing  can  be  more  unfounded 
and  pernicious  than  this  impression.  The  eccentrici- 
ties that  sometimes  characterize  tlie  intellectually 
gifted,  are  but  so  many  humiliating  proofs  of  the 
imperfection  of  human  nature,  even  wlien  exhibiting 
its  highest  attributes.    Hence  the  afiectation  of  such 


TO   POLITENESS    AND    FASHION  27 

peculiarities  simply  subjects  one  to  ridicule,  and,  in 
many  instances,  to  the  contempt  of  sensible  people. 

Some  years  since,  when  Byron  was  the  "  bright, 
particular  star  "  worshipped  by  young  Sophs,  it  was 
quite  a  habit  among  our  juvenile  collegians  to  drink 
gin,  wear  their  collars  a  la  mode  de  Byron^  cultivate 
misanthropy  upon  system,  and  manifest  the  most 
concentrated  horror  of  seeing  women  eat !  In  too 
many  instances,  the  sublimity  of  genius  was  mea- 
gerly  illustrated  by  these  aspirants  for  notoriety. 
In  place  of  catching  an  inspiration,  they  only  caught 
cold;  their  gloomy  indifference  to  the  hopes,  the 
enjoyments,  and  pursuits  of  ordinary  life,  distressed 
no  one,  save,  perhaps,  their  ci-devant  nurses,  or  the 
"  most  tender  of  mothers  ;"  their  "  killing  "  peculia- 
rities of  costume  were  scarcely  daguerreotyped  even 
upon  the  impressible  hearts  of  the  school-girls  whose 
smiling  observance  they  might  chance  passingly  to 
arrest ;  women  of  sense  and  education  pertinaciously 
adhered  to  a  liking  for  roast  beef,  with  variations, 
and  manifested  an  equally  decided  partiality  for  the 
society  and  attention  of  men  who  were  not  indebted 
for  the  activity  of  their  intellects  to  the  agency  of 
the  juniper  berry  !  Falling  into  such  absurdities  as 
these,  a  man  cannot  hope  to  escape  the  obnoxious 
imputation  of  being  i^ery  young  ! 

But  while  care  is  taken  to  avoid  the  display  of 
undue  attention  to  the  adornment  of  the  outer  man, 
everything  approaching  to  indifference  or  neglect,  in 
that  regard,  shmild  be  considered  equally  reprehen- 
sible.    jN'o  one  entertains  a  more  profound  respecA 


98  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN  8   GUIDE 


for  the  prodigious  learning  of  Dr.  Johnson,  from 
knowing  that  he  often  refused  to  dine  out  rather  than 
change  his  linen  ;  nor  are  we  more  impressed  by  the 
gallant  tribute  to  kindred  genius  that  induced  his 
attending  Mrs.  Siddons  to  her  carriage,  when  she 
visited  him  in  the  third-floor  rooms  he  continued  to 
occupy  even  in  his  old  age,  because  his  trunk-hose 
were  dangling  about  his  heels,  as  he  descended  the 
stairs  with  his  fair  guest.  One  does  not  envy  Por- 
6on,  the  greatest  of  modern  Greek  scholars,  his  habi- 
tually dirty  and  shabby  dress,  because  it  is  forever 
associated  with  his  learned  celebrity  !  !N"either  is 
Greeley  a  better,  or  more  influential  editor,  that  he 
is  believed  to  be  invisible  to  mortal  eyes  except 
when  encased  in  a  long  drab-colored  overcoat.  He, 
however,  seems  to  have  adopted  an  axiom  laid  down 
in  a  now  ahnost-forgotten  novel  much  admired  in  my 
youth — "  Thaddeus  of  Warsaw,"  I  think — "  Acquire 
the  character  of  an  oddity,  and  you  seat  yourself  in 
an  easy-chair  for  life."  The  supposition  of  mono- 
mania most  charitably  explains  the  indulgence  in 
habits  so  disgusting  as  those  well-known  to  have  cha- 
racterized the  distinguished  savant  ,  who  died 

recently  at  Paris.  Had  he  slept  in  a  clean  bed,  and 
observed  the  decencies  of  life,  generally,  the  race 
would  have  been  equally  benefited  by  his  additions 
to  scientific  lore,  and  his  country  the  more  honored 
that  he  left  a  name  in  no  degree  in  had  odor  with 
the  world ! 

But  to  return: — !N*o  better  uninspired  model  foi 
young  Americans  exists  than  that  aflforded,  in  the 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  20 

most  minute  details,  of  the  life  and  character  of 
Washington ;  and  even  upon  a  point  comparatively 
so  insignificant  as  that  we  are  at  present  discussing, 
he  has  left  us  his  recorded  opinion  :  "  Always,"  he 
writes  to  his  nephew,  "  have  your  clothes  made  of 
the  best  materials,  by  the  most  accomplished  persons 
in  their  business,  whose  services  you  can  command, 
and  in  the  prevailing  fashion." 

With  such  illustrious  authority  for  the  advice,  then, 
I  unhesitatingly  counsel  you  to  dress  in  the  fashion. 

To  descend  to  particulars  designed  to  include  all 
the  minutiae  of  a  gentleman's  wardrobe,  were  as  futile 
as  useless  ;  but  a  few  hints  upon  this  point,  may, 
nevertheless,  not  be  wholly  out  of  place  in  epistles 
so  frank,  practical  and  familiar  as  these  are  intended 
to  be. 

The  universal  partiality  of  our  countrymen  for 
hlack^  as  the  color  of  dress  clothes,  at  least,  is  fre- 
quently remarked  upon  by  foreigners.  Among  the 
best  dressed  men  on  the  continent,  as  well  as  in  Eng- 
land, black,  though  not  confined  to  the  clergy,  is  in 
much  less  general  use  than  here.  They  adopt  the 
darker  shades  of  blue,  brown  and  green,  and  for  un- 
dress almost  as  great  diversity  of  colors  as  of  fabrics. 
An  English  gentleman,  for  instance,  is  never  seen  in 
the  morning  (which  means  abroad  all  that  portion  of 
the  twenty-four  hours  devoted  to  business,  out-door 
amusements  and  pursuits,  &c. ; — it  is  always  7/i.orning 
until  the  late  dinner  hour  has  passed)  in  the  half-worn 
coat  of  fine  black  cloth,  that  so  inevitably  gives  a 
man  a  sort  of  shabby-genteel  look;    but  in  some 


30 


strong-looking,  rough,  knock-about  "fixin,"  fre- 
quently of  nondescript  form  and  fashion,  but  admir- 
ably adapted  both  in  shape  and  material  for  use — for 
work.  Of  this,  by  the  way,  every  man,  worthy  of 
the  name,  has  a  daily  portion  to  perform,  in  some 
shape  or  other — from  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  with  a 
fortune  that  would  purchase  half-a-dozen  consort-king- 
growing  German  principalities,  and  leave  a  princely 
inheritance  for  his  successors,  to  the  youngest  son  of 
a  youngest  son,  who,  though  proud  of  the  "  gentle 
blood"  in  his  veins,  earns,  as  an  em/ploye  in  the  service 
of  the  government, — in  some  one  of  its  ten  thousand 
forms  of  patronage  and  power — the  limited  salary 
that  barely  suffices,  when  eked  out  by  the  most  in- 
genious economy,  to  supply  the  hereditary  necessities 
of  a  gentleman.  But  this  is  a  digression.  As  I  was 
saying  in  the  morning,  during  work -hours,  whatever 
be  a  man's  employment,  and  wherever,  his  outside 
garb  should  be  suited  to  ease  and  convenience,  its 
only  distinctive  marks  being  the  most  scrupulous 
cleanliness,  and  the  invariable  accompaniment  of 
fresh  linen. 

Coming  to  the  discussion  of  matters  appertaining 
to  a  toilette  elaborate  enough  for  occasions  of  cere- 
mony, I  think  of  no  better  general  rule  than  that 
laid  down  by  Dr.  Johnson  (in  his  character  of  a 
shrewd  observer  of  men  and  manners,  rather  than 
as  himself  affording  an  illustration  of  the  axiom, 
perhaps) — "  the  hest  dressed 'persons  are  those  in  whose 
attire  nothing  in  jparticvl^xr  attracts  attention^'' 

There  is  an  indescribable  air  of  refinement,  2k  je  ne 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  31 

mis  quo%  as  the  Frencli  have  it,  at  an  equal  remove 
from  the  over-washed  look  of  your  thorough  Eng- 
lishman (their  close-cropped  hair  always  reminds  me 
of  the  incipient  stage  of  preparation  for  assuming  a 
strait-jacket!)  and  the  walking  tailor's  advertisement 
tliaj:  perambulates  Fifth  Avenue,  Chestnut-street,  the 
Boston  Mall,  and  other  fashionable  promenades  in 
our  cis-Atlantic  cities,  in  attendance  upon  the  loco- 
motive milliner's  show-cases,  yclept  "belles" — God 
save  the  mark ! 

The  essentials  of  a  gentleman's  dress,  for  occasions 
of  ceremony  are — a  stylish, well-fitting  cloth  coat,  of 
some  dark  color,  and  of  unexceptionable  quality ; 
nether  garments  to  correspond,  or  in  warm  weather, 
or  under  other  suitable  circumstances,  white  pants  of 
a  fashionable  material  and  make;  the  finest  and 
purest  linen,  embroidered  in  white,  if  at  all ;  a  cra- 
vat and  vest,  of  some  dark  or  neutral  tint,  according 
to  the  physiognomical  peculiarities  of  the  wearer, 
and  the  'prevailing  mode;  a  fresh-looking,  fashiona- 
ble black  hat  and  carefully-fitted,  modish  boots,  light- 
colored  gloves,  and  a  soft,  thin,  white  handkerchief. 

Perhaps,  the  most  arbitrary  of  earthly  divinities  per- 
mits her  subjects  more  license  in  regard  to  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  hair  and  beard,  than  with  respect  to  any 
other  matter  of  the  outer  man.  A  real  artist,  and  such 
every  man  should  be,  who  meddles  with  the  "  human 
face  divine"  or  its  adjuncts,  will  discern  at  a  glance 
the  capabilities  of  each  head  submitted  to  his  mani* 
pulation.  Defects  will  thus  be  lessened,  or  wholl/ 
concealed,  and  good  points  brought  out. 


32  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLKMAN*S   GUIDE 

If  you  wear  your  beard,  wear  it  in  moderation- 
extremes  are  always  vulgar !  Avoid  all  fantastic 
arrangements  of  the  hair — turning  it  under  in  a  huge 
roll,  smooth  as  the  cylinder  of  a  steam-engine,  and  as 
little  suggestive  of  good  taste  and  comfort  as  would 
be  the  coil  of  a  boa  constrictor  similarly  located, 
parting  it  in  Miss  iJ^ancy  style,  and  twisting  it  into 
love  [soap  ?]  locks  with  a  curling-tongs,  or  allowing 
it  to  straggle  in  long  and  often,  seemingly,  "  un- 
combed and  unkempt  "  masses  over  the  coat-collar. 
This  last  outrage  of  good-taste  is  so  gross  a  violation 
of  what  is  technically  called  "  keeping,"  as  to  excite 
in  me  extreme  disgust.  Ill,  indeed,  does  it  accord 
with  the  trim,  compact,  easily-portable  costume  of 
our  day,  and  a  miserable  imitation,  it  is  of  the  flow- 
ing hair  that,  in  days  of  yore,  fell  naturally  and 
gracefully  upon  the  broad  lace  collar  turned  down 
over  the  velvet  or  satin  short-cloak  of  the  cavaliers 
and  appropriately  adorning  shoulders  upon  which, 
with  equal  fitness,  drooped  a  long,  waving  plume, 
from  the  wide-brimmed,  steeple-crowned,  pictur- 
esque hat  that  completed  the  costume. 

While  on  this  subject  of  collars,  etc.,  let  us  stop  to 
discuss  for  a  moment  the  nice  matter  of  their  size  and 
shape.  Just  now,  like  the  "  life  "  of  a  "  poor  old  man," 
they  have  "dwindled  to  the  shortest  span,"  under 
the  pruning  shears  of  the  operatives  of  the  mode. 
Whether  this  is  the  result  of  a  necessity  growing 
with  the  lengthening  beards  that  threaten  wholly  to 
ignore  their  existence,  you  must  determine  for  your- 
selves, but  I  must  enter  my  protest  against  th^  total 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASKION.  83 

extinction  of  this  relieving  line  of  white,  ?o  long,  at 
least,  as  the  broad  wristband,  now  so  appropriately 
accompanying  the  wide  coat-sleeve,  shall  remain  in 
vogue. 

The  mention  of  this  last  tasteful  appendage  natu- 
rally brings  to  mind  the  highly  ornate  style  of  sleeve- 
buttons  now  so  generally  adopted.  Eschew,  I  pray 
you,  all  flash  stones  for  these  or  any  other  personal 
ornament.  Nothing  is  more  unexceptionable  for 
sleeve-buttons  and  the  fastenings  of  the  front  of  a 
shirt,  than  fine  gold^  fashioned  in  some  simple  form, 
sufficiently  massive  to  indicate  use  and  durability,  and 
skillfully  and  handsomely  wrought,  if  ornamented 
at  all.  Few  young  men  can  consistently  wear 
diamonds,  and  they  are,  if  not  positively  exception- 
able, in  no  degree  requisite  to  the  completion  of  the 
most  elaborate  toilette.  But  those  who  do  sport  them, 
should  confine  themselves  to  genuine  stones  of 
unmistakable  water,  and  never  let  their  number 
induce  in  the  minds  of  beholders  the  recollection 
that  a  travelling  Jew — whether  from  hereditary  dis- 
trust of  the  stability  of  circumstances,  or  from  some 
other  consideration  of  personal  convenience,  usually 
carries  his  entire  fortune  about  his  person !  Better 
the  simplest  fastenings  of  mother-of-pearl  than  such 
staring  vulgarity  of  display.  And  so  of  a  watch 
and  its  appendages.  A  gentleman  carries  a  watch 
for  convenience,  and  secures  it  safely  upon  his  per- 
son, wearing  with  it  no  useless  ornament,  paraded  to 
the  eye.     It  is,  like  his  pencil  and  purse,  good  of  ita 

2* 


34 


kind,  and  if  he  can  afford  it,  handsome,  but  it  is 
never  flashy  ! 

The  fashion  of  sporting  signet-rings  is  not  so  gene- 
ral, perhaps,  as  it  was  a  little  while  since,  but  it  still 
retains  a  place  among  the  minutiae  of  our  present 
theme.  Here,  again,  the  same  general  rules  of  good 
taste  apply  as  to  other  ornaments.  When  worn  at 
all,  everything  of  this  sort  should  be  most  unexcep- 
tionably  and  unmistakably  tasteful  and  genuine. 
Any  deviation  from  good  ton^  in  this  regard,  will  as 
inevitably  give  a  man  the  air  of  a  loafer  as  an  ill-fit- 
ting boot  will,  or  the  slightest  declension  from  the 
perpendicular  in  his  hat ! 

In  connection  with  my  earnest  advice  in  regard  to 
all  flash  ornaments,  to  whatever  purpose  applied,  I 
must  not  omit  to  record  my  protest  against  staring 
patterns  in  pants,  cravats,  vests,  etc.  Carefully 
avoid  all  the  large,  many-colored  plaids  and  stripes, 
of  which  (as  Punch  has  demonstrated)  it  takes  more 
than  one  ordinary-sized  man  to  show  the  pattern ; 
and  all  glaring  colors  as  well.  I  have  no  partiality, 
as  I  believe  I  have  intimated,  for  the  eternal  dead 
black  which,  abroad  at  least,  belongs,  by  usage,  pri- 
marily to  the  clergy ;  but  this  is  a  better  extreme 
than  that  which  has  for  its  original  type  the  sign- 
board getting-up  of  a  horse-jockey. 

A  fashion  has  of  late  years  obtained  extensively, 
which  has  always,  within  my  remembrance,  had  its 
admirers — that  of  a  white  suit  throughout^  for  very 
warm  weather.  This  has  the  great  merit  of  comtort, 
and  some  occupations  permit  its  adoption  without 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  35 

iuconvenience.  But  even  the  use  of  thin  summer 
cravats  (which  should  always  be  of  some  imconspi- 
cuous  color)  wonderfully  mitigates  the  sufferings 
incident  to  the  dog-days,  and  these  are  admissible 
for  dress  occasions,  when  corresponding  with  the 
general  effect  of  the  vest  and  nether  investments. 

To  recur  once  more  to  the  important  item  of  body 
linen ; — never  wear  a  colored"^  shirt — have  no  such 
article  in  your  wardrobe.  Figures  and  stripes  do 
not  conceal  impurity,  nor  should  this  be  a  desidera- 
tum with  any  decent  man.  The  now  almost  obsolete 
German  author,  Kotzebue — ;W^hose  plays  were  very 
much  admired  when  I  was  young,  and  whom  your 
modern  students  of  German  should  read  in  the  origi- 
nal— I  remember,  makes  one  of  his  female  charac- 
ters, a  sensible,  observing  woman,  say  that  she 
detected  a  gentleman  in  the  disguise  of  a  menial  by 
observing  \S.\Qi fineness  of  his  linen!  If  your  occu- 
pation be  such  as  to  require  strong,  rough-and-tum- 
ble garments,  wear  them,  unhesitatingly,  when  you 
are  at  work,  but  have  them  good  of  their  kind,  and 
keep  them  clean.  While  your  dress  handkerchief 
should  not  look,  either  for  size  or  quality,  as  if  you 
had,  for  the  nonce,  perverted  the  proper  use  of  bed- 
linen — in  the  woods,  for  pioneer  travelling,  rough 
riding,  etc.,  a  bandanna  is  more  sensible,  as  is  a  cut- 
away coat,  or  something  of  that  sort,  wdth  ample 
pockets,  loose,  strong,  and  warm,  and  a  "  soft " 
broad-brimmed,  durable  hat,  or  cap,  as  the  case  may 
be — ^not  an.  old,  fine  black  cloth  dress-coat,  sur 

*  It  will  be  understood,  of  course,  that  the  necessities  and  the  regula- 
tions of  military  life  are  here  excepted. 


36 


mounted  bv  a  narrow-rimmed  "  sesrment  of  a  stove- 
pipe,"  with  a  satin  cravat,  thongli  it  be  half-worn ! 
In  short,  my  dear  boys,  study  fitness  and  propriety 
in  all  things.     This  is  the  legitimate  result  of  a  ^vel\ 
regulated  mind,  tlie  characteristic  of  a  true  Gentle- 
man— which  every  American  should  aim  to  be — not 
a  thing  made  up  of  dress,  perfumery,  and  "  boos," 
as  Sir  Archy  McSycophant  styled  them ;  but  a  right- 
minded,  self-respecting  man,  with  Excelsior  for  his 
motto,  and  our  broad,  free,  glorious  land  "  all  before 
him,  where  to  choose  "  the  theatre  of  a  useful,  hono- 
rable life.     Matters  like  those  I  have  dwelt  on  in 
this  letter,  are  trifles,  comparatively ;  but  trifles,  in 
the  aggregate,  make  life,  and,  thus  viewed,  are  not 
unworthy  the  subordiriate  attention  of  a  man  of  sense. 
Tliey  are  collateral,  1  admit,  but  they  go  to  make  up 
the  perfect  whole — to  assist  in  the  attainment  of  the 
true  standard  which  every  young  man  should  keep 
steadily  in  view.     And,  insignificant  as  the  eflfect  of 
attention  to  such  matters  may  appear  to  you,  depend 
upon  it,  that  habits  of  propriety  and  refinement  in 
regard  to  such  personal  details,  have  more  than  a 
negative  influence  upon  character  in  general.      The 
man  who  preserves  inviolable   his  self-respect,  in 
regard  to  all  personal  habits  and  surroundings,  is, 
ceteris  jparibics,  far  less  likely  to  acquire  a  relish  for 
low  company  and  profligate  indulgences,  and  to  cul- 
tivate correspondent  mental  and  moral  attributes. 
It  occurs  to  me  that,  going  into  detail,  as  I  have, 
your  attention  should,  in   the   proper  connection, 
have  been  called  to  a  little  matter  of  dress  etiquette, 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  3T 

of  which  you  moderns  are  strangely  neglectful,  as  it 
appears  to  an  old  stickler  for  proj^riety  like  me.  To 
have  offered  an  imgloved  hand  to  a  lady,  in  the 
dance,  would,  in  days  when  I  courted  the  graces, 
have  been  esteemed  a  peccadillo,  and  over-punctilious 
as  you  may  think  me,  it  seems  very  unhandsome  to 
me.  A  dress  costume  is  no  more  complete  without 
gloves  than  without  boots,  and  to  touch  the  pure 
glove  of  a  lady  with  uncovered  fingers  is — imperti- 
nent ! 

Here,  again,  let  me  condemn  all  fancy  display. 
A  fresh  white,  or,  wdiat  amounts  at  night  to  the  same 
thing,  pale  yellow  glove,  is  the  only  admissible  thing 
for  balls,  other  large  evening  parties,  ceremonious 
dinners,  and  wedding  receptions ;  but  for  making 
ordinary  morning  visits,  or  for  the  street,  some  dark, 
unnoticeable  color  is  in  quite  as  good  taste  and  ton. 
Bright-colored  gloves  bring  the  hands  into  too  much 
conspicuousness  for  good  effect,  and,  to  my  mind,  give 
the  whole  man  a  plebeian  air.  I  remember  once 
being,  for  a  long  time,  unable  to  divine  what  a  finely- 
dressed  young  fellow,  in  whom  I  thought  I  recog- 
nised the  son  of  an  old  college  chum,  could  be  carry- 
ing in  each  hand-,  as  he  w^alked  towards  me  across 
the  Albany  Park;  of  similar  size  and  color,  he 
seemed,  John  Gilpin  like,  to  have 

"  hung  a  bottle  on  each  side 

To  keep  the  balance  sure !" 

"When  I  could,  in  sailor  phrase,  "  make  him  out," 
behold  a  pair  of  great  fat  hands,  incased  in  tight* 


38 


fitting  gloves,  closely  resembling  in  hue  the  bright* 
est  orange-colored  wrapping-paper ! 

You  will  expect  me  not  entirely  to  overlook  the 
important  topic  of  over-garments. 

As  in  all  similar  matters,  it  is  the  best  taste  not 
to  deviate  so  much  from  the  prevailing  modes  as  to 
make  one's  self  remarkable.  Fortunately,  however, 
for  the  infinite  diversity  presented  by  the  human 
form,  a  sufiicient  variety  in  this  respect  is  offered 
by  fashion  to  gratify  the  greatest  fastidiousness. 
And  no  point  of  dress,  perhaps,  more  imperatively 
demands  discrimination,  with  regard  to  its  selection. 
Thus,  a  tall,  slender  figure,  with  narrow  shoulders 
and  ill-developed  arms,  is  displayed  to  little  advan- 
tage in  the  close-fitting,  long-skirted  overcoat  that 
would  give  desirable  compactness  to  the  rotund 
person  of  our  short,  portly  friend,  Alderman  D., 
while  the  defects  of  the  same  form  would  be  almost 
wholly  concealed  by  one  of  the  graceful  and  conve- 
nient Talmas  that  so  successfully  combine  beauty 
and  comfort,  and  affbrd,  to  an  artistically-cultivated 
eye,  the  nearest  approach  to  an  abstract  standard  of 
taste,  presented  by  masculine  attire,  since  the  flow- 
ing short  cloak  of  the  so-called  Spanish  costume  was 
in  vogue. 

Here,  again,  one  is  reminded  of  the  propriety  of 
regarding  fitness  in  the  selection  of  garments  espe- 
cially designed  to  promote  comfort.  Nothing  can 
well  be  more  ungainly  than  the  appearance  of  a 
man  in  one  of  the  large  woollen  shawls  that  have  of 
late  obtained  such  general  favor,  at  least  as  they  are 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  39 

frequently  worn,  slouching  loosely  from  the  shoul- 
ders, and  almost  necessarily  accompanied  by  a  stoop, 
the  more  readily  to  retain  them  in  place.  They  are 
well  adapted  to  night  travel,  to  exposed  riding  and 
driving  (when  properly  secured  about  the  chest), 
and  are  useful  as  wrappers  w^hen  a  man  is  dressed 
for  the  opera  or  a  ball.  But  that  any  sensible  person 
should  encumber  himself  with  such  an  appendage 
in  walking — for  daily  street  wear — is  matter  for  sui*- 
prise.  They  have  by  no  means  the  merit  for  this  ■ 
purpose  of  the  South  American  jponclio^  which  is 
simply  a  large  square  shawl  of  thick  woollen  cloth, 
with  an  opening  in  the  centre  for  passing  it  over  the 
head,  thus  securing  it  in  place,  and  giving  the 
wearer  the  free  use  of  his  arms  and  hands,  a  desider- 
atum quite  overlooked  in  the  usual  arrangement,  or 
rather  7i<m-arrangement  of  these  dangling  "  M'cGre- 
gors."     But  the  way,  I  well  remember,  that  one  of 

the  young  T s  of  Albany,  not  very  many  years 

ago,  w^as  literally  mobbed  in  the  streets  of  that 
ancient  asylum  of  Dutch  predilections,  upon  his 
appearance  there  in  a  poncho  brought  with  him  on 
his  return  from  Brazil !  So  much  for  the  mutations 
of  fashion  and  opinion ! 

To  sum  up  all,  let  me  slightly  paraphrase  the 
laconic  and  invariable  advice  of  the  immortal  ]N"el- 
son  to  the  young  middies  under  his  command. 
*'  Always  obey  your  superior  officer,"  said  the  Eng- 
lish hero,  **  and  hate  a  Frenchman  as  you  would 
the  devil !"  JSTow  then,  for  my  "  new  reading :" — In 
DRESS,  always  obey  the  dictates  of  Fashion,  regulated 


40 


hy  good  sense,  and  hate  shabby  gentility  as  you  woulc, 
the  devil ! 

Well,  you  young  dogs,  here  ends  the  substance  of 
my  first  old-fashioned  letter  of  advice  to  you.  I 
will  confess  that  upon  being  convinced,  as  I  was  at 
the  very  outset,  how  much  easier  it  is  to  think  and 
talk  than  to  write,  I  was  more  than  half  inclined  to 
recall  my  promise  to  you  all.  The  pen  of  your 
veteran  uncle,  my  boys,  has  little  of  "  fuss  and 
feathers,"  though  it  may  be  "rough  and  ready." 
The  "Mill-Boy  of  the  Slashes"  used  often  to  say, 
when  we  were  both  young  men,  and  constantly  asso- 
ciated in  business  matters  as  well  as  in  friendship, 
"  Let  Lunettes  do  that,  he  holds  the  readier  pen ;" 
but  times  are  changed  since  then,  and  you  must  not 
expect  fine  rhetorical  flourishes,  or  the  elegances  of 
modern  phraseology  in  these  straight-forward  effu- 
sions. I  learned  my  English  when  "Johnson's 
Dictionary  "  was  the  only  standard  of  our  language, 
and  the  "  Spectator  "  regarded  as  afi'ording  an  unex- 
ceptionable model  of  style.  With  this  proviso,  I 
dare  say,  we  shall  get  on  bravely,  now  that  we  are 
once  fairly  afloat ;  and,  perhaps,  some  day  we'll  get 
an  enterprising  publisher  in  our  Quaker  City  to 
shape  these  effusions  into  a  '''•  frenthooW  iov private 
circulation — a  capital  idea !  at  least  for  redeeming 
my  crabbed  hieroglyphics  from  being  "  damned  with 
faint  praise  "  by  my  "  numerous  readers,"  a  thought 
by  no  means  palatable  to  the  sensitive  mind  of  your 
old  relative. 

I  believe  it  was  "  nominated  in  the  bond,"  that 


TO  POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  41 

the  subjects  treated  of  in  each  of  mj  promised  let- 
ters shall  be  illustrated  by  stories,  or  anecdotes, 
drawn  from  what  you  were  pleased  to  style  "  the 
ample  stores  furnished  by  a  life  of  large  observation 
and  varied  experience."  It  occurs  to  me,  however, 
that  as  this,  my  first  awkward  essay  to  gratify  your 
united  wishes,  has  already  grown  to  an  inconceiv- 
able length,  it  were  well  to  reserve  for  another 
occasion  the  fulfillment  of  the  latter  clause  of  your 
request,  as  more  ample  space  and  a  less  lagging  pen 
may  then  second  the  efforts  of 

Your  affectionate 

Uncle  Hal» 


P.  S. — In  my  next,  I  will  include  some  prac- 
tical directions  respecting  the  details  of  costume 
suitable  for  various  cereinonious  occasions — the 
opera,  dinners,  weddings,  etc.,  etc. 

*'  Whew !"  methinks  I  hear  you  all  exclaim, 
"  our  old  uncle  setting  himself  up  as 

" '  The  glass  of  fashion  and  the  mould  of  form  !* 

He  may  indeed  be  able  to 

"  '  hold  the  mirror  up  to  Nature  ;* 

but  to  attempt  to  reflect  the  changeful  hues  of  mere 

fashion  " 

^ot  too  fast,  my  young  friends !  Do  not  suppose 
me  capable  of  such  folly.  But,  for  the  benefit  of 
such  of  you  as  are  so  far  removed  from  the  centre 


42  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

of  ton  as  to  require  such  assistance,  I  have  invoked 
the  aid  of  a  good-humored  friend,  thoroughly  aufaii 
in  such  matters,  the  "  observed  of  all  observers "  in 
our  x^^merican  Belgravia,  a  luminary  in  whose  rays 
men  do  gladly  sun  themselves. 

H.L. 


TO  POLITENESS   AKD  FASHION.  48 


LETTER  n. 

sketches  and  anecdotes. 

My  dear  Nephews: 

In  accordance  with  the  promise  with 
which  I  concluded  my  last  letter,  I  will  give  you,  in 
this,  narrated  in  my  homely  way,  some  anecdotes, 
illustrative  of  the  opinions  I  have  expressed  upon  the 

subject    of  DRESS. 


Liking,  sometimes,  to  amuse  myself  by  a  study 
of  the  masses,  in  holyday  attire  and  holyday  humor, 
— to  see  the  bone  and  sinew  of  our  great  coun- 
try, the  people  who  make  our  laws,  and  for  whose 
good  they  are  administered  by  their  servants,  enjoy- 
ing a  jubilee,  and  wishing  also  to  meet  some  old 
friends  who  were  to  be  there  (among  others.  Gen. 
Wool,  who,  though  politicians  accused  him  of  going 
to  lay  pipe  for  the  presidency,  is  a  right  good  fellow, 
and  the  very  soul  of  old-fashioned  hospitality),  I  went 
on  one  occasion  to  a  little  city  in  western  New  York, 
to  attend  a  State  Fair. 

On  the  night  of  the  fete  that  concluded  the  affair, 
your  cousins,  Grace  and  Gertd,  to  whom  you  all  say 


44 


I  can  refuse  nothing,  however  unreasonable,  insisted 
that  I  should  be  their  escort,  and  protested  warmly 
against  my  remonstrances  upon  the  absurdity  of  an 
old  fellow  like  me  being  kept  up  until  after  midnight 
to  watch,  like  a  griffin  guarding  his  treasures,  while 
two  silly  girls  danced  with  some  "  whiskered  Pan- 
door,"  or  some  "  fierce  huzzar,"  who  would  be  as 
much  puzzled  to  tell  where  he  won  his  epaulettes  as 

was  our  (militia)  Gen. ,  of  whom,  when  he  was 

presented  to  that  sovereign,  on  the  occasion  of  a 
court  levee,  Louis  Philippe  asked, "  where  he  had 
served !" 

It  would  not  become  me  to  repeat  half  the  flatter- 
ing things  by  which  their  elegant  chaperon^  Mi-s.  B. 
seconded  the  coaxing  declarations  of  your  cousins, 
that  they  would  be  "  enough  more  proud  to  go  with 
Uncle  Hal  than  with  all  the  half-dozen  beaux  toge- 
ther," whose  services  had  been  formally  tendered  and 
accepted  for  the  occasion. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  cried  Gerte,  "  for  Uncle  Hal  is  a 
real  soldier !"  And  I  believe  the  wheedling  rogue 
actually  pressed  her  velvety  lips  to  the  ugly  sabre 
scar  that  helps  to  mar  my  time-worn  visage. 

"  Col.  Lunettes  is  too  gallant  not  to  lay  down  his 
arms  when  ladies  are  his  assailants !"  said  Mrs.  B. 
with  one  of  her  conquering  smiles.  "Well,  ladies," 
said  I,  "  I  cry  you  mercy — 

"  *  Was  ever  colonel  by  such  sirens  wooed, 
Was  ever  colonel  by  such  sirens  won  !' " 

I  have  no  intention  to  inflict  upon  you  a  long  de- 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  45 

Bcription  of  the  festivities  of  the  evening.  Suffice 
it  to  saj  upon  that  point,  that  the  "  beauty  and 
fashion,"  as  the  newspapers  phrase  it,  not  only  of 
the  Empire  State,  but  of  the  Old  Dominion,  and 
others  of  the  fair  sisterhood  of  our  Union,  were  bril- 
liantly represented. 

"When  our  little  party  entered  the  dancing-room, 
which  we  did  at  rather  a  late  hour,  for  we  had  been 
listening  to  some  good  speaking  in  another  apartment 
— the  ladies  declared  that  they  preferred  to  do  so,  as 
they  could  dance  at  any  time,  but  rarely  had  an  op- 
portunity of  hearing  distinguished  men  speak  in 
public, — ^the  "observed  of  all  observers,"  among 
the  fairer  part  of  the  assembly,  and  the  envy,  of 
course,  of  all  the  male   candidates  for  admiration, 

was  young  "  General ,"  one  of  the  aids-de-camp 

of  the  Governor  of  the  State.  In  attendance  upon  his 
superior  officer,  who  was  present  with  the  rest  of  his 
staff,  our  juvenile  Mars  was  in  full  military  dress, 
and  made  up,  as  the  ladies  say,  in  the  most  elaborate 
and  accepted  style  of  love-locks  (I  have  no  idea  what 
their  modern  name  may  be),  whiskers  and  moustaches. 
Ihe  glow  that  mantled  the  cheeks  of  the  triumphant 
Eoanerges  could  not  have  been  deeper  dyed  had  s 
^' modesty ^^''  like  that  of  "Washington,  when  over- 
powered by  the  first  public  tribute  rendered  to  him 
by  Congress,  "  been  equalled  only  by  his  bravery  !" 

"  He  above  the  rest  in  shape  and  gesture, 
Proudly  eminent." 

but  apparently,  wholly  unconscious  of  the  attention 


4:6  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN  S   GUIDE 

of  whicli  he  was  the  subject,  was  smilingly  engrossed 
by  his  devotion  to  the  changes  of  the  dance,  and  to 
his  fair  partner ;  and  the  last  object  that  attracted  my 
eye,  as  we  retired  from  the  field  of  his  glory,  were 
the  well-padded  military  coat,  the  curling  moustaches 
and  sparkling  eyes  of  "  Adjutant-Gen. !  " 

True  to  my  old-fashioned  notions  of  propriety,  I 
went  the  next  morning  to  pay  my  respects  to  Mrs. 
B.,  and  to  look  after  your  cousins, — especially  that 
witch  Gerte,  whom  her  father  had  requested  me  to 
"  keep  an  eye  upon,"  when  placing  her  under  my  care 
for  the  journey  to  the  Fair. 

I  found  the  whole  fair  bevy  assembled  in  the 
drawing-room,  and  in  high  spirits. 

After  the  usual  inquiries  put  and  answered, 
Grace  cried  out,  "  Oh  !  Uncle  Hal,  I  must  tell  you  I 
Gen. has  been  here  this  morning  !  He  was  wear- 
ing such  a  beautiful  coat ! — his  dress  last  night  was 
nothing  to  it ! — it  fairly  took  all  our  hearts  by  storm !" 

At  these  words,  a  merry  twinkle,  as  bright  and 
harmless  as  sheet  lightning,  darted  round  the  circle. 

The  master  of  the  house  entered  at  that  moment, 
and  before  the  conversation  he  had  interrupted  was 
fairly  renewed,  invited  me  into  the  adjoining  dining- 
room  to  "  take  a  mouthful  of  lunch." 

"While  my  host  and  I  sat  at  a  side-table,  sipping 
a  little  excellent  old  Cognac,  with  just  a  dash  of  ice- 
water  in  it  (a  bad  practice,  a  very  bad  practice,  by 
the  by,  my  boys,  which  I  would  strenuously  counsel 
you  not  to  fall  into ;  but  an  inveterate  habit  acquired 
by  an  old  soldier  when  no  one  thought  of  it  being 


TO  POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  47 

rery  wrong)  the  lively  cliit-chat  in  the  drawing-room 
occasionally  reached  my  ears. 

"  It  was  tissue,  I  am  quite  sure  I"  said  Miss  . 

"  No  matter  about  the  material — the  color  would 
have  redeemed  anything !"  cried  Grace. 

"  Sea-green !"  chimed  in  the  flute  notes  of  another 
of  the  gay  junto,  "  what  can  equal  the  General's 
verdancy  f^^ 

"  What  ?"  (here  I  recognized  the  animated  voice 
of  the  lady  of  the  mansion) ;  "  why,  only  his  maiir 
vais  ton^  in  '  congratulating '  me  upon  having  '  so 

many '  at  my  reception  for  Governor  and  Mrs. , 

the  other  evening,  and  his  equally  flattering  assur- 
ance that  he  had  not  seen  so  '  brilliant  a  military 
turn-out  in  a  long  time ' — meaning,  of  course,  his 
elegant  self!  You  are  mistaken,  however,  Laura, 
about  his  coat  being  of  tissue^  it  was  lawn^  and  had 
just  come  home  from  his  lawn-dress^  when  he  put  it 
on.  I  distinctly  saw  the  mark  of  the  smoothing-iron 
on  the  cufl",  as  well  as  that  his  wristband  was  soiled 
considerably." 

"  He  had  only  had  time  to  '  change'  his  coat  since 
he  went  'home  with  the  girls  in  the  morning,'" 
chimed  in  some  one,  "  and  his  hair,  I  noticed  as  he 
rose  to  make  what  he  called  his  'farewell  how  of 
exit^  was  filled  with  the  dust  of  that  dirty  ball-room." 

"Which  couldn't  be  brushed  out  without  taking 
out  the  curl,  too,  I  suppose  !"  This  last  sally  emi- 
nated,  I  believe,  from  one  of  the  most  amiable,  usu- 
ally, of  the  group. 

"  Well,"  said  the  hostess,  with  a  half-sigh  of  relief, 


4:8  THE  AMERICAN  gentleman's   GUmB 

*  he  seldom  inflicts  himself  upon  me !  His  grand 
entree  this  morning,  in  the  character  of  a  katy-did, 
gotten  up  a  la  mode  naturelle^'^  (here  there  was  a 
general  clapping  of  hands,  accompanied  by  hravos 
that  would  have  rejoiced  the  heart  of  a  prima 
donna),  "  was,  no  doubt,  occasioned  by  his  having 
heard  some  one  say  that,  what  vulgar  people  style  a 
^  jparty  call^  was  incumbent  upon  him  after  my  recep- 
tion. What  a  pity  his  informant  had  not  also 
enlightened  him  on  another  point  of  ettiqueWy^  as  old 
Mr.  Smith  calls  it,  and  so  spared  me  the  mortifica- 
tion, my  dears,  of  presenting  to  you,  as  a  specimen 

of  the  beaux  of ,  and  one  of  the  aids-de-camp  of 

Governor ,  a  man  making  a  visit  of  ceremony  in 

a  hright,  pea-green^  thin  muslin  shooting-jacket  /" 


Bulwer,  the  novelist,  when  I  was  last  in  London, 
some  two  or  three  years  ago — and  for  aught  I  know 
he  still  continues  the  practice — used  to  appear  in 
his  seat  in  the  English  House  of  Commons  one  day 
in  light-colored  hair,  eye-brows  and  whiskers,  with 
an  entire  suit  to  correspond ;  and  the  next,  per- 
haps, in  black  hair,  etc.,  accompanied  by  a  black  coat, 
neckcloth,  and  so  on  throughout  the  catalogue.  A 
proof  of  the  sidmitted  eccentricities  o/geniics,  I  suppose. 


D ,  who  is  now  a  very  respectable  veteran 

lawyer,  and  well  known  in  the  courts  of  the  Empire 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  49 

State,  was  originally  a  Green  Mountain  Boy — tall,  a 
trifle  ungainly,  with  a  laugh  that  might  have  shaken 
his  native  hills,  rather  unmanageable  hair,  each  indi- 
vidual member  of  the  fraternity,  instead  of  regard- 
ing the  true  democratic  principle,  often  choosing  to 
keep  "  Independence "  on  its  own  account,  and  a 
walk  that  required  the  whole  breadth  of  an  ordinary 
side-walk  to  bring  out  all  its  claims  to  admiration. 

Though  D did  not  sacrifice  to  the  graces,  he 

really  wrote  very  clever  "  Lines ;"  but  his  shrewd 
native  sense  taught  him  that  a  reputation  as  a  maga- 
zine poet  would  not  have  a  direct  tendency  to 
increase  the  number  of  his  clients.  So  the  some- 
time devotee  of  the  Muse  of  Poetry,  bravely  eschew- 
ing the  open  use  of  a  talent  that,  together  with  his 
ever-ready  good-humor  and  quiet  Yankee  drollery, 
had  brought  him  somewhat  into  favor  in  society, 
despite  his  natural  disadvantages,  entered  into  part- 
nership with  an  old  practitioner  in  A ,  and  bent 

himself  to  his  career  with  sturdy  energy  of  purpose. 

"  New  Year  "  coming  round  again  in  the  good  old 

Dutch  city  where  D had  pitched  his  tent,  some 

of  his  friends  offered  to  take  him  with  them  in  their 
round  of  calls,  and  introduce  him  to  such  of  their  fair 
friends  as  it  was  desirable  to  know ;  hinting,  at  the 
same  time,  that  this  would  afford  a  suitable  occasion 
for  donning  a  suit  of  new  and  fashionable  garments. 

On  the  first  of  January,  therefore,  agreeable  to 
appointment,  his  broad,  pock-marked  face — lumi- 
nous as  a  colored  lantern  outside  an  oyster-saloon — ■ 

and  his  gait  more  than  usually  diffvsive^  D was 

3 


60 

seen  coming  along  from  his  lodgings,  to  meet  his 
companions  for  the  day's  expedition,  and  evidently 
with  sails  full  set.  It  soon  became  apparent  to  all 
beholders,  not  only  that  the  grub  had  been  trans- 
formed into  a  full-fledged  butterfly  of  fashion,  but — 
that  he  wore  his  long,  wide,  ample-caped,  new  cloak 
wro7ig  side  out ! 


At  the  recent  Peace  Convention  in  Paris,  even 
those  strenuous  adherents  to  things  as  they  were^  the 
Turks,  wore  the  usual  dress  of  Europeans  and  Ame- 
ricans throughout,  with  the  single  exception  of  the 
fez^  which,  I  believe,  no  adherent  of  Mahomet  will 
renounce,  except  with  his  religion.     Young  Charles 

P told  me  that  Count  Orloff's  sable-lined  takna 

was  of  the  most  unexceptionable  Parisian  cut. 


An  agreeable  young  friend  of  mine,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
EL,  contrives  to  support  a  family  (Heaven  only 
knows  how !)  upon  the  few  hundred  dollars  a  year 
that  make  the  usual  salary  of  a  country  clergyman. 
He  indulges  himself,  at  rare  intervals,  in  a  visit  to  his 
fashionable  city  relatives,  by  way  of  necessary  relax- 
ation, and  to  brush  up  a  little  in  matters  of  taste,  lite- 
rature, etc.  Perhaps,  too,  he  thinks  it  well,  occa- 
sionally, to  return,  with  his  wife  and  children,  the  long 
visits  made  every  summer  by  a  pretty  fair  representa- 
tion of  his  numerous  family  circle  at  the  pleasant 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  61 

little  rectory,  where  refinement,  industry,  and  the 
ingenuity  of  a  practical  housekeeper,  create  a  charm 
often  lacking  in  more  pretentious  establishments. 

On  one  of  these  important  occasions,  it  was  decided 
that  the  handsome  young  rector  should  avail  him- 
self of  his  city  jaunt  to  purchase  a  new  suit  of  clothes, 
his  best  clerical  coat,  notwithstanding  the  most  care- 
ful use  and  the  neatest  repairing,  being  no  longer 
presentable  for  ceremonious  purposes.  (I  make  no 
doubt  that  the  compatibility  of  the  contemplated 
journey  and  the  new  clothes,  both  in  the  same  year, 
was  anxiously  discussed  in  family  council.) 

As  soon  as  possible  after  his  arrival  in  town,  my 
clerical  friend  broached  the  all-important  subject  of 
the  tailor,  to  one  of  his  brothers,  a  youth  of  unques- 
tionable authority  in  such  matters,  and  invoked  his 
assistance. 

"  With  all  my  heart.  Will,  we'll  drop  in  at  my 
own  place,  as  we  go  down  this  morning ;  they  get 
everything  up  there  artistically."  "  And  at  artistic 
prices,  I  fear,"  soliloquized  the  new  candidate  for 
the  honors  of  the  cloth,  with  a  slight  quaking  at 
heart,  as  a  long-cherished  plan  for  adding,  without 
her  previous  knowledge,  a  shawl  to  the  waning 
bridal  outfit  of  his  self-sacrificing  wife,  rose  before 
his  mental  vision. 

"  But,  I  say,  Will,"  inquired  his  modish  brother,  of 
our  young  clergyman,  in  a  tone  of  good-humored  ban- 
ter, as  they  sauntered  down  Broadway  together,  after 
breakfast,  "  where  did  you  buy  your  new  chapea^i  /" 

"  At  A ;  before  leaving  homo  " 


ss 


'^  Excuse  me,  my  dear  fellow,  but  it's  a  nondes- 
cript !  It  will  never  do  with  your  new  suit,  allow 
me  to  say,  frankly." 

"  But  the  person  of  whom  I  bought  it  had  just 
returned  from  'Now  York,  and  he  assured  me  it  was 
the  latest  fashion !  I  gave  him  eight  dollars  for  it, 
at  any  rate." 

"  Preposterous  I"  ejaculated  the  man  of  fashion, 
in  a  tone  portentous  as  that  which  ushered  in  the 
"  prodigious  "  of  Dominie  Sampson,  when  astounded 
by  his  discoveries  in  the  mysteries  of  the  toilet. 
"  It  first  saw  the  light  in  the  '  rural  districts,'  depend 
on't !" 

The  quizzical  glances  with  which  his  companion 
ever  and  anon  scrutinized  the  crowning  glory  of  his 
neat  morning  attire,  as  he  had  previously  thought  it, 
gradually  overpowered  the  philosophy  of  my  friend, 
— clergyman  though  he  was — the  admitted  Adonis 
of  his  class  in  college,  and  the  favorite  of  ladies,  old 
and  young.    The  church's 

"  favorites  are  but  men. 

And  who  e'er  felt  the  stoic  when 
First  conscious  of" 

wearing  a  "shocking  bad  hat!"  The  result  was, 
that  the  condemned  article  was  exchanged  at  a  fash- 
ionable establishment  for  one  fully  meeting  the 
approbation  of  the  modish  critic. 

"  What !  another  new  hat  ?"  cried  the  young  wife, 
whose  quick  woman's  eye  at  once  caught  the  je  tu§ 


TO  POLITENESS   AKD   FASHION.  63 

sazs  quoi — the  air  of  the  thing,  as  her  husband 
rejoined  her  later  in  the  day. 

The  gentleman  explained  ; — "  And  you  thought 
the  other  so  becoming  too,  Belle,"  he  added,  in  a 
half-deprecatory  tone ;  "  but  Chauncey  was  so 
strenuous  about  it,  and  I  knew  he  would  appeal  to 
you,  and  that  you  would  not  be  satisfied  without" 

"  But  they  allowed  you  really  nothing  for  the  other, 
though  it  was  quite  new,  and  certainly  a  nice  hat. 
What  a  pity,  now,  that  you  did  not  travel  in  your  old 
one,  though  it  was  a  little  worse  for  wear,  or  even  in 

the  cap  you  bought  to  fish  in.    There  was  Mr. in 

the  same  car  with  us,  looking  anything  but  elegant^ 
I  am  sure,  with  the  queerest-looking  old  "  Kossuth," 
I  believe  they  are  called,  on,  and  the  roughest  over- 
coat !" 

"  But,  you  know.  Belle,  dear,  such  a  dress  is  not 
considered  admissible  for  the  clergy." 

"  'Eo !  well,  whatever  is  sensible  and  convenient 
should  be,  I  am  convinced  now,  if  I  was  not  before." 

Our  young  clergyman,  as  he  turned  the  still-che- 
rished plan  of  the  new  shawl  anxiously  in  his  mind, 
a  "  sadder  and  a  wiser "  man  than  before,  deter- 
mined never  again  to  buy  a  new  dress  hat  expressly 
to  perform  a  journey  in,  especially  when  going 
directly  from  the  "  rural  districts "  to  a  large  city ; 
besides  laying  up  for  future  use  some  other  colla- 
teral resolutions  and  reflections  of  an  equally  wise 
and  practical  character. 

"  Why,  Belle,"  said  the  "  superb  "  Chauncey  to 
Lis  fair  sister-in-law,  drawing  her  little  son  nearer  to 


54 

him,  as  lie  leaned  on  his  mother's  lap  after  dinner, 
"  this  is  really  a  magnificent  boy,  'pon-my-word ! — 
you  should  take  him  to  '  Bradbrook's '  and  fit  him 
up !  Would  you  like  a  velvet  jacket,  eh,  my  fine 
fellow?" 

The  curly-headed  child  pointed  his  dimpled  fore- 
finger towards  the  pretty  garment  he  was  wearing, 
and  said,  timidly,  "  Pretty  new  coata,  mamma  made 
for  him." 

"  I  believe,"  responded  the  young  mother,  quietly, 
bending  her  beaming  eyes  upon  the  little  face  lov- 
ingly upturned  to  hers,  "  that  Willie  will  have  to  do 
without  a  velvet  jacket  for  the  present ;  mamma  in- 
tended to  get  one  for  him  in  l^ew  York,  but " the 

sentence  was  finished  mentally  with  "  papa's  second 
new  hat  has  taken  the  money."  This  will  reveal  the 
secretly-cherished  plan  of  the  young  rector's  wife, 
with  which  a  faint  sketch  of  a  pretty  cap  to  crown 
the  shining  curls  of  her  darling,  had  dimly  mingled, 
almost  unconsciously  to  herself,  until  brought  out  by 
the  power  of  that  "  tide  in  the  aflraii*s  of  men " — 
necessity  1 


Sitting  in  the  same  seat  in  a  railroad  car  with  ex- 
Chief- Justice    ,  than  whom  there  is  no  more 

eminent  jurist  nor  finished  gentleman  in  the  land, 
discoursing  earnestly  of  old  times  and  new,  our  con- 
versation was  suddenly  interrupted,  as  we  stopped  to 
feed  our  iron  steed,  by  the  loud  salutation  of  a  youth 


TO   POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  55 

who  seemed  to  take  more  pains  than  the  law  re- 
quires under  such  circumstances,  to  enunciate  the 
name  of  my  companion.  "Pleasant  morning,  Judge! 
— if  I  don't  intrude "  (a  glance  at  me,  and  no  intro- 
duction by  the  chief-justice),  "  is  this  seat  unoccu- 
pied ?"     And  down  he  sat  vis-a-vis  to  us. 

He  had  the  talk  pretty  much  to  himself,  for  a 
while.  By-and-by,  our  uninvited  guest  apologized 
for  his  gloves,  half-worn  fine  black  kid.  They  were 
"  really  too  bad  ;  must  have  taken  them  up  by  mis- 
take, in  the  hurry  of  getting  ofi*,"  etc. 

"  I  always  keep  an  old  pair  expressly  for  these 
abominably  dirty  cars,  but,  I  believe,  I  have  forgot- 
ten to  put  them  on  this  morning,"  said  the  vener- 
able lawyer,  in  a  peculiarly  quiet  tone,  unfolding,  as 
he  spoke,  the  ample,  old-fashioned,  travel-worn 
camlet  cloak,  beneath  which  his  arms  had  hitherto 
been  crossed,  and  thus  revealing  his  neat,  simple 
dress,  and  the  warm,  clean  lining  of  his  outer  gar- 
ment. Taking  a  well-worn  pair  of  soft  beaver 
gloves  from  an  inside  pocket,  the  judge,  with  an  air 
of  peculiar  deliberation,  drew  them  upon  hands, 
"  small  to  a  fault,"  as  the  novels  say,  and  as  white 
as  those  myths  are  supposed  to  be,  and  re-adjusted 
his  arms  and  cloak  with  the  same  deliberation.  A 
nice  observer  might  note  a  slight  gleam  of  the  well- 
known  smile,  whose  expressive  sarcasm  had  so  often 
withstood  professional  insolence  and  ignorance,  as 
the  chief  justice  turned  his  head,  and  cursorily  sur- 
veyed his  fellow-passengers. 

"  Who  is  that  young  man,  sir  ?"  I  inquired,  when 


56 


we  were,  soon  after,  upon  again  stopping,  relieved 
of  the  presence  of  this  jackanapes. 

"  His  name  is  ,"    replied  the   judge.     "  A 

scion  of  the  law,  I  think  now — a  son  of  the  —r — , 


who  made  a  fortune,  you  may  remember,  by  the 
sudden  rise  of  "West  India  molasses,  some  few  years 
ago  (a  pause).  I  never  rate  a  man  by  his  antece- 
dents. Colonel,  but  a  little  modesty  is  always  suit- 
able and  becoming,  in  very  young  jpersons^''  added 
the  chief-justice,  somewhat  sententiously. 


You  will,  perhaps,  remember  the  commotion 
created  by  the  promulgation  of  Marcy's  edict 
respecting  the  dress  to  be  worn  on  state  occasions, 
by  our  representatives  abroad. 

Our  accomplished  young  countryman,  Mr.  H.  S ^ 

though  nominally  Secretary  of  Legation,  was  virtu- 
ally our  minister,  at  St.  Cloud,  when  this  order  was 
published.  In  simple  compliance  with  his  instruc- 
tions, the  American  secretary  appeared  at  a  court 
dinner  in  the  suit  of  plain  black,  prescribed  by  his 
government.  The  premonitions  of  a  revolution  could 
scarcely  have  created  more  consternation  among  the 
officials  of  the  Tuileries,  and  even  the  diplomatic  dig- 
nitaries assembled,  experienced  a  sensation.  The 
Turkish  ambassador  was  surprised  out  of  the  usually 
imperturbable  stoicism  of  a  devout  follower  of  the 
mighty  prophet  of  Moslemdom. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,"  he  growled,  as  the 
young  republican    arrested   his    attention,    in  Ian- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  57 

guage  more  remarkable  for  Oriental  figiirativeness 
than  for  Parisian  elegance,  "  a  raven  among  so  many 
birds  of  gay  plumage  ?" 

The  newspaper  writers  of  the  day,  commentmg 
upon  this,  said  that  the  minister  from  Yenezuela — 
the  most  insignificant  government  represented,  was 
most  bedizened  with  gold  lace,  stars,  and  trumpery 
of  every  sort.  These  letters,  prepared  for  home  pe- 
rusal, were  re-published  in  the  Paris  papers,  and  of 
course,  met  the  eyes  of  all  the  parties  alluded  to  ! 

S told  one  of  my  friends  that  among  the  annoy- 
ances to  which  the  whole  affair  subjected  him,  was 
that  of  being  subsequently  constantly  thrown  in  con- 
tact with  the  various  personages  with  whose  names 
his  own  had  been,  without  his  previous  knowledge, 
unceremoniously,  associated. 

!N"o  doubt,  however,  his  skillful  diplomacy  carried 
him  as  triumphantly  through  this  difficulty  as  through 
others  of  vital  importance. 

Dining  w^ith  this  polished  young  diplomate,  at  the 
Tremont  in  Boston,  where  we  met  soon  after  his  re- 
turn home,  the  conversation  turned  upon  the  personal 
appearance  of  Louis  ITapoleon,  and  from  his  wire- 
drawn moustaches  diverged  to  the  subject  of  beards 
in  general. 

"  The  truth  is,  Col.  Lunettes,"  said  Mr.  S ,  in 

French, — which  by  the  way,  he  both  speaks  and 
writes,  as  he  does  his  native  tongue,  with  great  purity 
and  propriety,  and  this  to  our  shame  be  it  said,  is 
far  enough  from  being  generally  the  case  with  our 
various  officials  abroad,  "  the  truth  is,  Col.  Lunettes, 

3* 


58 


(I  detected  a  just  perceptible  glance  at  my  furrowed 
cheek,  which  was,  however,  smooth-shaven  as  his 
own)  that  a  clean  face  is  getting  to  he  the  distinctive 
mark  of  a  gentleman  /" 


"  My  dear  Miss ,"  said  I  to  a  charming  woman, 

whose  cordial  smile  of  recognition  drew  me  within  the 
magic  circle  of  her  influence,  at  a  ball,  where  I  had 
been  for  some  little  time  a  *  quiet  looker-on,'  "  will 
you  pardon  the  temerity  of  an  old  friend  in  inquir- 
ing what  induced  your  chilling  reception  of  the  hand- 
some stranger  whom  I  saw  presented  to  you  with 
such  empressement  by  our  host  a  little  while  ago? 
If  you  could  have  seen  the  admiration  with  which 
he  long  regarded  you  at  a  distance,  '  his  eye  in  a  fine 
frenzy  rolling,' — as  he  leaned  against  the — the  cor- 
ner of  the  big  fiddle,  there,  while  the  music  was  at 
supper ! — could  you  have  seen  this,  as  others  saw  it, 
and  then  the  look  of  deep  desperation  with  which 
he  swallowed  a  bottle  of  champagne  at  a  standing, 
when  he  fled  from  your  frowns  to  the  supper-room  I 
— Eeally,  Miss ,  I  have  seldom  had  my  sympa- 
thies so  excited  for  a  stranger  " — 

By  this  time  her  ringing  laugh  stirred  the  blood 
into  quicker  pulsations  through  my  time-steeled 
heart ;  "  Oh,  Colonel,  Colonel !"  cried  she,  in  tones, 
mirth-engendering  as  the  silvery  call  of  Dian,  goddess 
of  the  dewy  morn,  (is  that  poetry,  I  wonder?)  "I see 
you  are  just  as  delightfully  quizzical  as  during  our 
Alpine  journey  together.    I  have  never  quite  for- 


TO  rOLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  59 

given  the  Fates  for  robbing  our  party  of  6J>  inimit- 
able a  conipagnon  de  voyage.,  and  me  of" —  "so 
devout  an  admirer !"  I  chimed  in :  "  and  me  of  so 
devout  an  admirer,"  proceeded  the  lady,  with  a  quick 
spirit-flash  in  her  deep  violet  eyes,  "  and  when  we 
were  just  becoming  so  well  acquainted,  too  !  It  was 
too  provoking !  Do  you  remember  the  amusement  we 
had  from  recalling  the  various  characteristic  excla- 
mations of  the  different  members  of  our  party,  when, 
the  Italian  plains  burst  upon  our  view,  out-spread 
before  us  in  the  morning  sunlight,  after  that  horrid 
night  in  the  shepherd's  hut  ?" 

"  If  I  recollect,  it  was  your  avowed  slave,  *  gentle- 
man John  '  as  you  called  him,  who  shouted,  *  O,  ye 
Gods  and  little  fishes ! — nothing  bad  about  that,  by 
thunder  V  That  fellow  carried  the  ladies,  as  he  did 
everything  else,  by  storm  " — 

"  No,  no.  Colonel,  not  all  the  ladies ;  but  I  was  going 
to  tell  you  about  this  *  mysterious  stranger,'  or  '  ro- 
mantic stranger'  — what  sobriquet  did  you  give  him  ? 
Suppose  we  go  nearer  the  door,  it  is  so  warm  here," 
and  she  twined  an  arm  that  threw  Powers  into  a  rap- 
ture,* confidingly  around  the  support  proffered  her 
by  an  old  soldier,  and  we  gradually  escaped  from  the 
crowd  (any  one  of  the  men  would  willingly  have  stil- 
lettoed  me,  I  dare  say !)  into  a  cool  corner  of  the  hall. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  thought  me  rude,  colonel,"  she 
began,  a  tint,  soft  as  the  shadow  of  a  crimson  rose 
flitting  over  her  expressive  face. 

I  entered  a  protest. 

*  Reraiud  me  to  tell  you  about  that  some  other  tim». 


CO 


*'l  dare  say  my  maiiner  was  peculiar,"  resumed 
my  fair  companion,  "but  I  fear  '  no  rule  of  courtly 
grace  to  measured  mood'  will  ever  '  train'  m.j  face  ; 
and — the  truth  is.  Colonel,  that,  though  I  love  and 
honor  my  own  countrymen  beyond  the  men  of  all 
other  lands,  I  do  wish  they  would  imitate  well-bred 
foreigners  in  some  respects.  I  hate  coxcombs !  I  be- 
lieve every  woman  does  at  heart.  I^ow,  here  is  this 
person.  Colonel  C ,  I  think,  if  I  heard  the  name  ?" 

"  Wherefore  6'c>Zc>n^Z,  and  of  what  ?"  thought  I,  but 
I  only  answered — "  Really,  I  am  not  able  to  say." 

"  Well,  at  any  rate,  I  identified  the  man,  beyond 
a  perad venture,  as  the  same  individual  who  sufficed 
for  my  entertainment  during  a  little  journey  from 

home  to  G ,  the  other  day.     As  papa,  in  his 

stately  way,  you  know,  committed  me  to  the  care 

of   the  conductor,  saying  that  *  Miss 's  friends 

would  receive  her  at  Gr ,'  I  observed  (luckily,  my 

fastidious  father  did  not)  the  broad  stare  with  which 
a  gi*eat  bearded  creature,  at  a  little  distance  from  us, 
turned  round  in  his  seat  and  surveyed  us.  When  I 
withdrew  from  the  window,  from  which  I  had  looked 
to  receive — to  say  good-bye,  again,  to  papa  " — 

I  would  have  given — ^I  think  I  would  have  given 
— ^my  Lundy-Lane  sword,  to  have  occasioned  the 
momentary  quiver  in  that  musical  voice,  and  the 
love-light  in  that  half-averted  eye  I  After  a  scarce 
perceptible  pause,  the  lovely  narrator  proceeded  : 

"  There  was  that  huge  moon-struck  face — ["  surv" 
tivuck^  perhaps  ?"  I  queried,  receiving  a  slight  fan- 
pass  for  my  pains]— such  a  contrast  to  papa's!  star 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  61; 

ing  straight  at  me,  still.  I  busied  myself  with  a  book, 
behind  my  veil,  and  presently  knew,  without  look- 
ing, that  the  gentleman  had  gradually  returned  to 
his  former  position.  Now  came  my  turn  to  scrutinize, 
though  the  '  game  was  scarcely  worth  the  powder.' " 

"  Spoken  like  the  true  daughter  of  a  gentleman- 
sportsman  !"  I  exclaimed,  and  this  time  was  rewarded 
with  an  irradiating  smile. 

"  Well,  such  a  rolling  about  of  that  alderman-like 
figure,  such  a  buttoning  and  unbuttoning !  But  this 
was  all  nothing  to  his  steam-engine  industry  in  the 
use  of  the  '  weed.'  I  turned  sick  as  I  observed  part 
of  the  shawl  of  a  lady  sitting  before  the  creature 
hanging  over  near  him.  After  a  while,  he  sallied 
forth,  at  one  of  the  stopping-places,  and  soon  returned 
with — (expressive  hue  !) — an  immense  green  ajpjple  ! 
It  seemed  for  a  time  likely  to  prove  the  apple  of  dis- 
cord, judging  from  the  hungry  glances  cast  at  it  by 
a  long,  lank,  thinly-clad  old  man  across  the  car. 
But  now  came  the  '  tug  of  war.'  It  scarce  required 
my  woman's  wit  to  divine  the  motive  that  had 
prompted  the  tasteful  selection  of  the  alderman's 
lunch.  A  glove  was  pompously  drawn  off,  and — • 
behold  !  a  great  ^a^e  of  a  ring  on  the  smallest,  I  can- 
not truthfully  say  Z^'^^Z^-finger,  set  with  a  huge  red 
cornelian,  that  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a  cran- 
berry-jam in  a  setting  of  puff-paste !  As  the  big 
apple  slowly  diminished  under  the  greedy  eyes  of 
the  venerable  spectator  of  this  rich  Tantalus-feast, 
my  heart  melted  with  pity." 

A  well-affected  look  of  surprise  on  the  part  of  her 


62 


auditor,  here  claimed  the  attention  of  the  fair 
speaker. 

"  Don't  alarm  yourself,  Colonel !  '  Pity  'tis,  'tis 
true,'  my  compassion  was  excited  only  towards  the 
poor  finger  that,  stout  as  it  looked,  must  soon  be 
worn  to  the  bone,  if  often  compelled  to  do  duty  at 
the  speed  with  which  it  was  worked  that  day.  Ima- 
gine the  poor  thing  stuck  straight  out  with  that  heavy 
stone  pate  upon  it,  while  the  proprietor  plied  his 
hand  from  his  mouth  to  the  car- window  hehind  him, 
with  the  industrious  regularity  of  a  steam  ferry-boat, 
professedly  laden  with  little  bits  of  apple-skin,  but 
really  intended — oh,  most  flattering  tribute  to  my 
discriminating  powers! — to  cajptivate  my  fancy ^ 
through,  my  eye  P 

When  my  amusement  had  somewhat  subsided, 
I  said  to  my  fair  friend  : 

"  I  suppose  the  doughty  alderman  finished  his 
repast,  like  Jack  the  Giant-killer,  by  eating  up  the 
famishing  old  man  who  had  the  insolence  to  watch 
him  while  breakfasting  ?" 

"  I  am  happy  to  be  able  to  say,"  replied  she,  "  that 
the  long,  lean,  lanky  representative  of  our  fallen 
race,  not  only  escaped  being  thoroughly  masticated 
and  thrown  by  little  handfuls  out  of  the  car-window, 
but  when  Jack  the  Giant-killer,  and  almost  every 
one  else  had  gone  out  of  the  car,  was  presented  by 
a  lady  with  two  nice  large  sandwiches  that  she  hap- 
pened not  to  need." 

"And  that  benevolent  lady  was" 

A  movement  among  the   dancers  here  crowded 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  63 

several  acquaintances  into  such  close  contact  with  us 
that  we  could  not  avoid  overhearing  their  conversation. 

"  Do  you  know  that  large  man,  wearing  so  much 
beard,  Mr.  Jerome  ?" 

"  Know  him  ?    certainly   I   do,   Miss  Blakeman. 

That's  C ,  Col.  C ,  the  rich  New  York  grocer. 

He  is  one  of  the  city  aldermen — they  talk  of  him  for 
the  legislature — quite  a  character,  I  assure  you." 

"He  evidently  thinks  so  himself,"  rejoined  one  of 
the  group ;  "just  notice  him  in  that  polka !  I  heard 
him  telling  a  lady,  a  moment  ago,  that  he  had  not 
missed  a  single  set,  and  wouldn't  for  anything." 

"They  say,"  pursued  a  lady,  "  that  he  is  paying 

his  addresses  to  that  prelty  little  Miss  S ,  who 

was  so  much  admired  here,  last  winter ;  she  is  an 
orphan,  I  think,  and  quite  an  heiress." 

A  perceptible  shiver  ran  through  the  clinging  arm 
that  still  graced  my  own,  and  as  I  moved  away  with 
my  sweet  charge,  she  murmured,  in  the  musical 
tongue  of  the  Beautiful  Land,  as  she  ever  calls  Italy, 
"  the  gentle  dove  for  the  vulture's  mate  !" 


Will  that  do  for  this  time,  boys?  Or  do  you 
require  that,  in  imitation  of  the  little  Grecian  Hunch- 
back, a  moral  shall  be  appended  to  each  of  his  nar- 
ratives, by  your 

Uncle  Hal. 

P.  S. — ^In  accordance  with  my  promise,  there 
follow  the  admirable  directions  and  remarks  of  the 


64  THE   AMERICAK   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

elegant  and  obliging  friend  referred  to  in  my  pre- 
vious letter.  He  will,  I  trust,  permit  me  thus  to 
tender  him,  renewedly,  my  very  grateful  acknow- 
ledgment of  his  flattering  politeness,  and  to  express 
my  sense  of  the  important  addition  made  by  his 
kindness  to  my  unpretending  epistles. 


"  My  dear  Col.  Lunettes  : 

*'  I  regard  myself  as  highly  compli- 
mented that  so  distinguished  a  representative  of  the 
ancien  regime^  as  yourself,  one  so  entirely  comme  il 
faut,  as  all  admit,  in  matters  of  taste,  should  esteem 
my  opinion,  even  in  regard  to  minor  points  of  eti- 
quette, as  worth  his  attention. 

"  I  need  scarcely  add,  dear  sir,  an  assurance  of  my 
conviction,  of  the  honor  you  do  me  by  affording  me 
a  place  in  your  remembrance,  and  that  I  make  no 
doubt  your  profound  knowledge  of  the  world,  united 
witli  your  unusual  opportunities  for  extensive  obser- 
vation— long  un  hahitui  de  helle  societe,  in  various 
countries,  as  you  have  been — will  afford  a  rich  treat, 
as  well  as  much  instruction,  to  those  who  may  be 
favored  with  the  perusal  of  your  proposed  Letters, 
That  he  may  have  the  honor  to  be  thus  fortunate,  la 
the  hope  of,  dear  sir, 

"  Your  very  respectful 

"  And  obedient  servant, 


"  Belqravia,  Tuesday  Morn.y 
"  May  6th,  '66." 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  65 


Gentlemen's  Dress. — ^The  subject  now  to  be 
treated  of,  may  be  divided  into  several  classes : — 
morning^  jpromenade  or  visiting^  and  evening  or 
hall  dress ;  wliicb  again  may  be  subdivided  into 
others,  such  as  riding-dress^  dress  suitable  for 
bachelors''  dinner-parties^  or  ojpera  (when  unaccom- 
panied by  ladies).  Besides  these  again,  we  have 
dresses  suitable  for  fishing,  shooting,  and  yachting 
purposes,  which,  however,  scarcely  call  for,  or  admit 
of,  the  display  of  much  taste,  inasmuch  as  the  occu- 
pations for  which  such  costumes  are  designed  par- 
take rather  of  the  nature  of  healthy  exercise  than 
of  that  quiet  and  gentlemanly  repose  necessary  to 
give  full  effect  to  the  graces  of  the  more  elaborate 
"  toilette.''^  Military,  iJ^aval,  and  Court  dresses  may 
also  be  considered  out  of  the  scope  of  the  remarks 
in  this  letter,  because  their  being  made  scrupulously 
in  accordance  with  rigid  Regulation  Rules,  leaves  no 
room  for  taste,  but  substitutes  the  dicta  of  official 
routine. 

To  commence  our  exemplifications  with  a  Wedding- 
Suit,  which,  from  the  wearer's  approximate  connec- 
tion with  the  ladies  deserves  the  "^<25  " — it  may  be 
remarked  that  the  time  of  day  in  which  the  cere- 
mony is  solemnized  should  determine  the  character 
of  the  costume,  that  is  to  say,  whether  it  should  be 
morning  or  evening.  In  either  case,  however,  gene- 
ral usage    allows    (not  to  say  demands),  a  more 


66 


marked  style  than  is  generally  worn  in  morning  or 
evening  usnal  wear.  Should  the  wedding  take  place 
in  the  evening^  a  very  elegant  costume  is,  a  dark 
claret  dress- coat,  white  ribbed-silk,  or  moire  antique^ 
waistcoat,  white  silk  neckcloth,  black  trowsers,  silk 
stockings,  and  shoes.  The  lining  of  the  sleeves,  also, 
of  white  silk,  coming  to  the  extreme  edge  of  the  cuff, 
imparts  a  singlarly  light  and  elegant  appearance  to 
the  hand  and  glove.  An  equally  elegant  Morning 
Wedding-Dress  might  consist  of  a  rich,  deep-brown 
frock-coat ;  waistcoat  of  black  cashmere,  with  a  small 
violet-colored  palm-leaf  figure ;  neck-tie  of  silk, 
combining  colors  of  black  and  cherry,  or  brown  and 
deep  blue  ;  trowsers  of  delicate  drab,  or  stone-color; 
gloves  primrose,  or  slate-colored  kid. 

The  usual  Evening-Dress  is  so  imperiously  insisted 
on,  that  it  might  be  almost  classed  in  the  category 
of  uniforms^  being  almost  invariably  composed  of 
hlack  coat,  vest,  and  trowsers.  Two  items,  however, 
in  this  costume,  admit  of  disquisition  amongst  "  men 
who  dress,"  viz.,  the  vest  and  the  tie — both  of  which 
may  be  either  white  or  black,  without  any  infraction 
of  the  laws  of  hienseance.  This,  therefore,  must  be 
settled  by  the  taste  of  the  wearer,  who  should 
remember  that  black,  having  the  effect  of  appa- 
rently diminishing  a  man's  size,  and  white  that  of 
increasing  it,  it  would,  therefore,  be  judicious  for  a 
person  of  unusual  size  to  tone  down  his  extra  bulk 
by  favoring  black  in  both  these  garments,  while  he 
who  is  below  the  average  standard  could,  if  not 


TO  POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  67 

actual! J  increase  his  height  or  size,  at  least  create 
the  impression  of  more  generous  proportions.  I, 
however,  must  confess  a  decided  partiality  for  a 
white  neck-tie,  at  least;  because,  although  subject  to 
the  disadvantage  of  being  de  rigueur  amongst 
waiters  and  other  members  of  the  Yellow  Plush 
Family,  it  is,  nevertheless,  always  considered  unex- 
ceptionable, at  any  season,  or  hour,  in  any  rank, 
profession,  or  capacity. 

A  Morning  Oall  should  be  made  in  a  frocJc-eoat,  or 
at  least  one  in  which  this  style  predominates.  It 
must,  however,  be  constantly  borne  in  mind  that  it 
is  quite  impossible  to  furnish  even  general  rules  on 
any  one  of  these  points  that  shall  prove  immutable, 
since  not  only  each  successive  year,  but  every  vary- 
ing season  produces  decided  changes  in  the  standard 
established  by  Taste  and  Fashion. 

Bachelors^  Dinner-j^arties  are  pleasant,  social  re- 
unions, at  which  gentlemen  enjoy  themselves  with 
more  abandon  than  would,  perhaps,  be  considered 
consistent  with  the  quiet  and  more  retired  respect  due 
to  the  presence  of  the  "  heau  sexe'^^  and,  as  a  natural 
consequence,  admit  of  a  more  neglige  style  of  costume. 
Still,  however,  a  certain  regard  must  be  had  to  the 
requirements  of  good  society ;  and  as  many  of  these 
parties,  when  they  break  up,  adjourn  to  the  opera, 
or  theatre,  where  they  are  pretty  sure  to  meet  ladies 
of  their  acquaintance,  a  costume  half-way  between 
morning  and  evening  is,  by  tacit  agreement,  pre- 
scribed; for  instance: — a  coat  of  some  dark  color 


68  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

(generally  termed  "  medley-colored "),  cut  rounded 
over  the  hips ;  black  cap  ;  inner  vest,  buttoning 
rather  high  in  the  breast ;  dark-grey  trowsers,  and 
black  silk  neckerchief,  or  ribbed  silk  scarf. 

Instead  of  giving  sketches  of  particular  costumes, 
it  would,  perhaps,  be  better  and  tend  more  to 
develop  the  importance  of  dress,  if  a  few  remarks 
were  made  on  the  general  rules  which  should  guide 
one  in  selections  for  his  own  wear. 

The  four  staple  colors  for  men's  wear,  are  Mack^ 
hlue,  hrown,  and  olive.  Other  colors,  such  as  drab, 
grey,  mixed,  etc.,  being  so  far  as  the  principal  gar- 
ments go,  what  are  termed  "  fancy  colors,"  should 
be  very  cautiously  used. 

As  was  remarked  above,  UacTc  has  the  effect  of 
diminishing  size,  but  it  has  another  more  important 
effect,  which  is  to  test,  in  the  severest  way,  the  wear- 
er's claims  to  a  distinguished  appearance.  It  is  a  very 
high  compliment  to  any  man  to  tell  him  that  black 
becomes  him,  and  it  is  probably  owing  to  this  pro- 
perty that  black  is  chosen,  par  excellence,  for  evening 
or  lall  dress.  Men,  therefore,  of  average  or  ordinary 
pretensions  to  stylish  contour,  should  bear  this  in 
mind,  and,  when  such  color  is  not  indispensable, 
should  be  careful  how  far  they  depend  on  their  own 
intrinsic  dignity. 

Blue,  of  almost  any  shade,  becomes  a  light  com- 
plexion, besides  being  an  admirable  set-off  to  black 
velvet,  which  can,  in  almost  all  cases,  be  judi- 
ciously used  in  the  collar,  in  which  case,  a  lighten 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  69 

shade  of  hlue  (also  becoming  such  a  complexion) 
can  be  worn  without  IcilUng  (as  it  is  technically 
termed),  the  darker  shade  of  the  coat — the  velvet 
harmonizing  both. 

Brown  being  what  is  termed  a  warm  color,  is 
eminently  adapted  for  fall  and  winter  wear — olive 
and  darh  green^  for  summer. 

When  Beau  Brummel  was  asked  what  constituted 
a  well-dressed  man,  he  replied,  *'  Good  linen— jolenty 
of  it,  and  country  washing.''^  This,  perhaps,  is  rather 
too  primitive.  The  almost  equally  short  opinion  of  the 
French  critic  is  decidedly  more  comprehensive — 
**  un  homme  Men  coiffe,  et  Men  chaussi,  peut  se  pr6- 
senter  jpartoutP  Under  any  circumstances,  however, 
it  may  be  laid  down  as  immutable,  that  the  extremi- 
ties are  most  important  parts,  wlien  considered  as 
objects  for  dress,  and  that  a  well  ajpjpointed  hat, 
faultlessly' fitting  glomes,  and  immaculate  hoots,  are 
three  essentials  to  a  well-dressed  man,  without 
-which  the  otherwise  best  constituted  dress  will 
appear  unfinished. 

Besides  the  necessity  for  the  greatest  care  required 
in  the  selection  of  colors,  with  regard  to  their  har- 
monizing with  each  other,  and  their  general  adap- 
tation to  the  complexion  or  contour  of  the  wearer, 
there  is  another  matter  of  the  first  importance, 
and  this  is,  the  cut.  Of  course,  everything  should 
be  sacrificed  to  perfect  ease,  as  any  garment 
which  pinches,  or  incommodes  the  wearer,  will 
strongly  militate  against  the  easy  deportment  of  even 


70 

the  most  graceful,  and  tend  to  give  a  contracted  and 
constrained  appearance.  Every  garment^  fkerefore^ 
should  leave  the  wearer  jperfectly  free  and  uncon- 
trolled in  every  motion  /  and,  having  set  out  with 
this  proviso,  the  artiste  may  proceed  to  invest  his 
work  with  all  the  minute  and  seemingly  immaterial 
graces  and  touches,  which,  although  scarcely  to  be 
remarked,  still  impart  an  aJi/r  or  character^  which  is 
unmistakable,  and  is  expressed  in  the  French  word 
chique. 

Wadding^  or  stujffmg,  should  be  avoided  as  much 
as  possible.  A  little  may  be  judiciously  used  to 
round  off  the  more  salient  points  of  an  angular 
figure,  but  when  it  is  used  for  the  purpose  of  creat- 
ing an  egregioufjly  false  impression  of  superior  form, 
it  is  simply  snobbish.  Some  one  has  called  hypo- 
crisy "  the  homage  which  vice  pays  to  virtue." 
Wadding  is  the  homage  which  snobbishness  jpays  to 
symmetry  ! 

A  well-dressed  man  will  never  be  the  first  to 
set  a  new  fashion ;  he  will  allow  others  to  hazard 
the  innovation,  and  decline  the  questionable  honor 
of  being  the  first  to  advertise  a  novelty.  Two  lines 
of  Pope  (I  believe),  admirably  illustrate  the  middle 
course : — 

"-Be  not  the  first  hy  whom  the  new  w  tried^ 
Nor  yet  the  last  hy  whom  Uis  set  aside.^' 

Besides  which  he  will  find  it  far  easier  to  become 
a  critic  than  an  author  /  and  as  there  is  sure  to  bo 


TO  POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  71 

a  vast  number  of  men  who  "  greatly  daring  "  dress, 
he  will  merely*be  at  the  trouble  of  discriminating 
which  is  worthy  of  selection  or  rejection ;  he  will 
thus  verify  the  old  saw,  that  "  fools  make  feasts  and 
wise  men  eat  thereof,"  and  avoid,  by  means  of  his 
own  knowledge  of  the  hecoming,  the  solecisms  which 
are  pretty  certain  to  occur  in  a  number  of  experi- 
ments. 

TrinouijO. 


7S  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN'S  GUIDE 


LETTEK  III. 

MANNER. 

My  deab  Nephews: 

In  the  order  of  sequence  adopted  at  the 
commencement  of  our  correspondence,  the  subject 
of  manner  comes  next  in  succession. 

It  was  the  shrewd  aphorism  of  one  of  the  most 
profound  observers  of  human  nature  that  "  Manner 
is  something  to  all^  and  everything  to  someP 

As  indicative  of  character,^which  it  undoubtedly 
is,  to  a  certain  extentjl  it  is  well  worthy  the  attention 
of  all  youthful  aspirants  to  the  honors  of  the  world. 
And  though,  like  every  other  attribute,  it  should  bear 
indubitable  marks  of  individuality,  care  and  atten- 
tion, before  habit  has  rendered  change  and  improve- 
ment difficult,  will  enable  every  man  to  acquire  that 
propriety  and  polish,  in  this  respect,  the  advantages 
of  which  through  life  can  scarcely  be  overrated. 
>  It  has  been  somewhat  paradoxically  said,  that  the 
fashionable  manner  of  the  present  day  is  no  manner 
at  all  I  which  means  simply — that  the  manners  of 
the  best  bred  people  are  those  that  are  least  obtruded 


TO  POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  78 

upon  the  notice  of  others, — those  most  quiet^  natic- 
*»^^alj  and  imassuming. 

JU  There  is,  however,  a  possibility  of  carrying  this 
-^modish  manner  to  such  an  extreme  as  to  make  it  the 
very  height  of  affectation.  If  Talleyrand's  favorite 
axiom  admits  of  some  qualification,  and  language  is 
not  always  used  to  "  conceal  our  ideas,"  then  should 
manner^  which  is  the  natural  adjunct  that  lends 
additional  expressiveness  to  words,  be  in  a  degree 
modified  by  circumstances — be  individualized. 
"rs  Every  approach  to  a  rude,  noisy,  boisterous,  man- 
'  ner,  is  reprehensible,  for  the  obvious  reason  that  it 
interferes  with  the  comfort,  and,  consequently,  with 
the  rights  of  others ;  but  this  is  at  a  wide  remove 
from  the  ultra-modishness  that  requires  the  total  sup- 
pression of  every  manifestation  of  natural  emotion, 
and  apparently,  aims  to  convert  beings  influenced 
by  the  motives,  feelings,  and  principles  that  consti- 
tute humanity,  into  mere  moving  automata ! 

In  this,  as  in  too  many  similar  matters,  Americans 
are  prone  to  excess.  Because  scenes  are  considered 
bad  ton^  in  good  society  abroad,  and  because  the 
warm-hearted  hospitality  of  olden  time  sometimes 
took  shape  a  little  more  impressingly  and  noisily 
than  kindness  required,  some  of  our  fashionable 
imitators  of  European  models  move  through  the 
world  like  resuscitated  ghosts,  and  violate  every  law 
of  good  feeling  in  an  endeavor  to  sustain  at  horfie 
a  character  for  modish  nonchalance  !j(,  Now,  take  it 
as  a  rule  through  life,  my  young  friends,  that  aU  seVm  ^ 
-I    vile  imitation   degenerates  into   caricature,  ^nd  let  X 

4 


74  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN  8   GUIDE 

your  adoption  and  illustration  of  every  part  of  your 
system  of  life  be  modified  by  circumstances,  and 
regulated  by  good  sense  and  manly  independence. 

I  need  scarcely  tell  you  that  true  politeness  is  not 
so  much  a  thing  of  forms  and  ceremonies,  as  of  right 
feelings  and  nicety  of  perception.  The  Golden  Eule 
habitually  illustrated  in  word  and  action,  would  pro- 
duce the  most  unexceptionable  good  breeding — ^po- 
liteness so  cosmopolitan  that  it  would  be  a  passport 
to  "  good  society  "  everywhere. 

One  of  the  most  polished  and  celebrated  of  Ameri- 
can authors  has  given  us  as  fine  and  laconic  a  defini- 
tion of  politeness  as  I  remember  to  have  met  with — 
"  Self-respect,  and  a  delicate  regard  for  the  rights  and 
feelings  of  others." 

y^  The  good  breeding  of  a  true  gentleman  is  not  an 
'  appendage  put  off  and  on  at  the  dictate  of  caprice, 
or  interest,  it  is  essentially  apart  of  himself — a  con- 
stituent of  his  being,  as  much  as  his  sense  of  honesty  or 
honor,  and  its  requirements  are  no  more  forgotten  or 
violated  than  those  of  any  other  essential  attribute  of 

"^  manhood.  You  will  all  remember  Sir  Philip  Sid- 
ney's immortal  action  in  presenting  the  cup  of  water 
to  the  dying  soldier.  This  w^is  a  spontaneous  result 
of  the  habitual  self-possession  and  self-restraint  that 
form  the  basis  of  all  true  good  breeding.  It  is  one  of 
the  most  perfect  exhibitions  on  record  of  the  moral 
siJblime  /  but  it  was,  also,  only  a  legitimate  result  of 
the  instinctive  politeness  of  a  Christian  gentleman  ! 

^       Manner,  then,  may  be  regarded  as  the  expression 
of  inhorent  qualities,  and  though  it  must,  necessarily, 


rO   POLITENESS    AND   FASHION.  75 

and  should  properly,  to  some  extent,  at  least,  vary 
with  the  variations  of  character,  it  may  readily  be 
rendered  a  more  correct  and  effective  exponent  of 
existing  characteristics  of  mind  and  heart,  by  judi- 
>^  cions  and  attentive  training. 

v/  While  true  good  breeding  must,  from  its  very  na- 
'  ture  bef  as  I  have  said/  in  all  persons  and  nnder  every 
modification  of  circumstance  substantially  the  same, 
the  proper  mode  of  exemplifying  it,  must,  with 
equal  propriety,  be  modified  by  the  exercise  of 
n[^  practical  good  sense  and  discriniination..|C  Thus,  the 
'  laws  of  convention, — which,  as  I  have  before  re- 
marked, is  but  another  name  for  the  rules  of  polite- 
ness, established  and  adhered  to  by  well-bred  people, 
for  mutual  convenience — though  in  some  respects  as 
immutable  as  those  of  the  Modes  and  Persians,  will 
always  be  adapted,  by  persons  of  good  sense,  to  the 
mutations  of  circumstance  and  the  inviolable  requi- 
sitions of  that "  higher  law,"  whose  vital  principle  is 
^^Mndness  Jcindly  expressed P'^  Having  now  esta- 
blished general  principles,  let  us  turn  to  the  conside- 
ration of  practical  details. 
•^  There  is,  perhaps,  no  better  test  of  good  manners 
afforded  by  the  intercourse  of  ordinary  life,  than 
that  of  conduct  towards  superiors  in  age  or  station ,V 
(''  Young  America  "  seems  loth  to  admit  that  he  has 
any  superiors,  but  we  will  venture  to  assume  these 
S^  premises).  The  general-in-chief  of  the  Revolutionary 
Army  of  America  is  well  known  to  have  always  ob- 
served tlie  most  punctilious  respect  towards  his 
Tnother^  in  his  personal  intercourse  with  her,  as  well 


76  THE   AMEKICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

as  in  every  other  relation  of  life.  My  word  for  it, 
he  never  spoke  of  her  as  the  "  old  woman ;"  nor 
could  one  of  the  youthful  members  of  his  military 
family  have  alluded,  in  his  hearing,  to  a  parent  as 
the  "  governor,"  or  the  "  old  governor,"  without  ex- 
citing the  disapproving  surprise  of  "Washington  and 
his  co-patriots.  And  yet  our  young  republic  has 
known  no  more  high-bred  and  polished  men  than 
those  of  that  day, — the  stately  and  elegant  Hancock, 
even  when  broken  by  time  and  disease,  a  graceful 
and  punctilious  observ^er  of  all  the  ceremonious 
courtesies  of  life  ;  the  courtly  Carroll,  whose  benign- 
ant urbanity  was  the  very  impersonation  of  a  long 
line  of  old  English  gentlemen;  and  the  imposing  state- 
liness  of  the  commander-in-chief,  ever  observant  of 
the  most  minute  details  of  propriety,  whether  in  the 
familiar  intercourse  of  daily  life,  or  while  conducting 
the  most  momentous  affairs  of  his  country.  But  to 
return  from  this  unpremeditated  digression.  E'ever 
let  youthful  levity,  or  the  example  of  others,  betray 
you  into  forgetfulness  of  the  claims  of  your  parents 
4^or  elders,  to  a  certain  deference.  Depend  upon  it, 
the  preservation  of  a  just  self-respect  demands  this. 
Your  historical  studies  will  have  furnished  you 
with  evidence  of  the  respect  habitually  rendered  to 
superiors  by  those  nations  of  antiquity  most  cele- 
brated for  advancement  in  civilization ;  and  you  will 
not  have  failed,  also,  to  remark  that  nothing  more 
surely  heralded  the  decay  of  ancient  empires  than 
degeneracy  in  this  regard. 
4^  Next  to  the  reverence  ever  due  to  parents,  may 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  7T- 

be  ranked  that  which  should  be  rendered  to  virtuous 
age,  irrespective  of  station  or  other  outward  attri- 
•^butes.y  I  should  deem  this  instinctive  with  all  right- 
minded  young  persons,  did  I  not  so  often,  in  the 

.  street,  at  chm-ch,  in  social  life,  in  public  places 
generally,  observe  the  manner  in  which  elderly 
persons  are,  apparently,  wholly  overlooked. 

J  Here,  the  universally-applicable  law  of  kindness 
claims  regard.  Those  of  the  pilgrims  of  earth, 
whose  feet  are  descending  the  narrowing  vale  that 
leads  to  the  dim  obscure  unpenetrated  by  mortal 
eyes,  are  easily  pained  by  even  the  semblance  of 
indifference  or  neglect.  They  are  sensitively  alive 
to  every  intimation  that  their  places  in  the  busy 
arena  of  active  life  are  already  better  hlled  by 
others ;  that  they  are  rather  tolerated  than  essential. 
Those  who  are  most  worthy  of  regard  are  least 
S  likety  to  be  insensible  to  such  influences.  Remem- 
ber, then,  that  you  should  never  run  the  race  of  life 
so  "fast"  as  to  encroach  upon  the  established  claims, 
of  your  predecessors  in  the  course.  Nor  would  the 
most  prematurely  sage  yonng  man  be  entirely  unbe- 
nefited,  it  may  be,  by  availing  himself  occasionally 
of  the  accumulated  experience,  erudition,  and  know- 
ledge of  the  world,  possessed  by  many  a  quiet  "  old 
fogy,"  whose  unassuming  manners,  modest  self- 
respect,  and  pure  integrity  present  a  just  model  to 
"  Young  America,"  albeit,  perchance,  too  old-fash- 

H^ioned  to  be  deemed  worthy  of  attention  1 

?  While  the  general  proposition — that  manner  is,  to 
a  considerable   extent  character  in  action^  is  un- 


78  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN's   GUIDE 

doubtedly  correct,  we  occasionally  see  the  exact 
converse  painfully  exemplified.  It  sometimes  occurs 
that  the  most  amiable  persons  labor  through  life 
under  the  disadvantage  of  a  diffident  or  awkward 
manner,  which  does  great  injustice  to  their  intrinsic 
excellences.  And  this  is  but  another  evidence  of 
the  necessity  of  the  earliest  attention  to  this  subject- 
Though  no  one  should  be  discouraged  in  an 
endeavor  to  remedy  the  defects  arising  from  neglect, 
in  this  respect  (and,  indeed,  it  may  properly  be  con- 
sidered as  afi'ording  room  for  ceaseless  advancement, 
like  every  other  portion  of  the  earthly  education 
of  immortal  beings),  few  persons,  perhaps,  ever  com- 
pletely overcome  the  difficulties  arising  from  inat- 
tention to  this  important  branch  of  education,  while 
youthful  pliancy  renders  the  formation  of  habits 
comparatively  easy. 
H-  The  early  acquisition  of  habits  of  self-posses- 
sion and  self  control,  will  furnish  the  surest  basis 
for  the  formation  of  correct  manners.  "With  this 
should  be  united,  as  far  as  is  practicable,  constant 
association  with  well-educated  and  well-bred  persons, 
there  is  no  friction  like  this  to  produce  external 
polish,  nor  can  the  most  elaborate  rules  furnish  an 
,  effectual  substitute  for  the  ease  that  practice  alone 
••^    secures. 

Lose  no  opportunity,  therefore,  for  studiously 
observing  the  best  living  models,  not  for  the  pur- 
pose of  attempting  an  undiscriminating  imitation  of 
even  the  most  perfect,  but,  as  an  original  and  gifted 
artist   derives   advantage   from  studying  works  of 


'¥■ 


TO  POLITENESS   AKD  FASHION.  79 

genius,  hy  the  great  masters  of  art,  to   avail  your- 
self   of    til 
experience. 


self    of   tlie    matured    knowledge    resulting    from 


But  now  for  an  exemplary  anecdote  or  two  : — 

"  Colonel  Lunettes,  do  you  know  some  gentleman 

going  to  U in  this  train  ?"  inquired  my  friend 

ex-Governor  T ,  extending  his  hand  to  me  in 

the  car-house  of  one  of  our  western  cities.  "  I  wish 
to  place  a  very  pretty  young  lady  under  the  care  of 
some  suitable  person  for  a  short  time,  until  she 
joins  a  party  of  friends." 

"  Eeally,  my  dear  sir,  I  regret  that  I  have  just 
arrived,"  returned  I ;  "  you  tempt  me  to  turn  about 
and  go  over  the  ground  again." 

"  Uncle  T ,  there  is  II B just  getting 

out  of  that  car,"  cried  a  young  lady,  approaching  us, 
with  two  or  three  fair  companions,  "  perhaps  he  is 
going  on." 

At  this  moment  a  young  man,  in  a  dress  that 
might  have  been  that  of  the  roughest  back-woods- 
man, approached  the  group. 

He  wore  a  very  broad-brimmed,  coarse  straw  hat, 
capable  of  serving  the  double  purpose  of  umbrella 
and  chapeau,  his  hands  were  incased  in  strong 
gauntlet-gloves,  and  he  carried  a  large  engineer  s 
field-book  under  one  arm. 

Eemoving  his  hat,  as  he  somewhat  hesitatingly 
advanced,  and  passing  his  hand  over  a  beard  of 
several  days'   growth,  glancing   downward,  at  the 


80 


same  time,  upon  lieavj-soled  boots,  thickly  encrusted 
with  dry  mud — 

"  Ladies,"  said  he,  "  I  am  too  dirty  to  come  near 
you  ;  I  have  been  surveying  in  the  swamps  in  this 
neighborhood  for  several  days  past,  camping  out, 
and  jumped  upon  the  cars  a  few  miles  back, 
bound  for  my  stationary  quarters  and — the  llessings 
of  civilization  P^  And,  with  the  color  deepening  in 
his  sun-burnt  face,  he  bowed  to  us  all,  with  a  grace 
that  Count  d'Orsay  could  scarcely  have  exceeded. 

The  youth  was  very  cordially  welcomed  by  his 
friends ;  little  Kitty,  who  is  privileged  to  say  any- 
thing, declared  she  "  never  saw  him  look  so  hand- 
some ;"  and,  I  confess,  that  even  my  flinty  old  heart 
was  favorably  moved  towards  the  young  engineer. 
I  admired  the  good  taste  that  dictated  an  explana- 
tion of  the  soiled  condition  of  his  clothes  (his  thick 
linen  shirt,  however,  was  clean) ;  not  an  absurd  apo- 
logy for  not  being  well-dressed^  and  I  liked  his  use 
of  the  good,  significant  Saxon  word  that  most  truth- 
fully described  his  condition. 

After  an  exchange  of  civilities,  turning  respect- 
fully to  the  governor,  he  said :  "  Governor  T ,  can 

I  be  of  any  service  ?    You  seemed  to  be  looking  for 
some  one." 

An  explanation  of  the  circumstances  resulted  in 
the  resignation  of  his  fair  charge  to  the  temporary 
care  of  this  same  toil-worn,  "  dirty  "  young  engi- 
neer, by  my  friend,  who  is  himself  one  of  the  most 
fastidious  and  world-polished  of  men ! 

A  few  days  after  this  trifling  adventure,  I  went,  by 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  81 

invitation,  to  pass  a  day  with  my  friend  the  ex-govern- 
or, at  his  beautiful  residence  a  little  out  of  the  city. 

Standing  near  one  of  the  drawing-room  windows, 
just  before  dinner,  I  observed  a  gentleman  alighting 
from  a  carriage,  at  the  entrance  of  the  mansion.  I 
was  struck  with  his  elegant  air,  as  he  kissed  his  hand 
to  some  one  who  was,  like  myself,  an  observer  on  the 
occasion. 

"  There  is  H —  B !"  exclaimed  the  joyous  voice 

of  pretty  Kitty,  the  niece  of  my  host,  and  a  little 
scrutiny,  while  he  was  paying  his  compliments  to 
the  several  members  of  the  family,  enabled  me  to 
recognize  in  this  graceful  stranger  the  rough-looking 
youth  I  had  previously  seen  at  the  depot.  But  what 
a  metamorphosis !  He  now  wore  an  entirely  modish 
dinner-dress,  exquisitely  tasteful  in  all  its  appoint- 
ments ;  his  coat  of  the  most  faultless  lit,  and  boots 
that  displayed  a  very  small  and  handsome  foot  to 
admirable  advantage.  I  afterwards  noticed,  too, 
that  "  camping  out "  in  the  ''  swamps  "  had  not,  appa- 
rently, impaired  the  smoothness  of  the  slender  fingers 
and  carefully-cut  nails  that  came  under  my  observa- 
tion while  listening,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  te 
the  rich  voice  and  guitar  accompaniment  of  Mr.  B . 

"Did  Mr.  B come  out  in  a  carriage  ?"  inquired 

one  of  the  ladies  of  the  family,  in  a  low  tone,  of  my 
host,  near  whom  I  was  standing,  when  arrangements 
were  to  be  made  for  the  return  of  the  guests  to  town. 

"  Certainly  he  did,"  answered  the  governor,  "  Mr. 

B is  too  much  of  a  sybarite  to  heat  himself  by 

walking  out  here  to  dinner,  on  such  a  day  as  this." 

4* 


8i 

"And  too  economical,  I  have  no  doubt,  judging 
from  liis  good  sense  in  other  respects,"  I  added,  "  to 
spoil  a  pair  of  costly  dress  boots  in  such  service." 

"  Mrs.  M ,  one  moment,  if  you  please,"  said  a 

voice  behind  us,  and  Mrs.  M (who  is  the  acting 

mistress  of  the  mansion)  took  the  arm  politely  prof- 
fered her,  and  stepped  out  upon  the  portico.  Pre- 
sently she  returned — 

"  Uncle  T ,"  whispered  she  ("  excuse  me.  Col. 

Lunettes),  John  need  not  get  up  our  carriage ;   Mr. 

B has  been  so  polite  as  to  insist  upon  our  sending 

the  girls  home  in  his,  sayiflg  that  he  really  prefers  to 
sit  outside,  and  that  the  carriage  in  which  he  drove 
out  is  to  be  here  in  a  few  minutes." 

"  He  happened  to  know  that  John  has  to  be  up 
with  the  lark,  about  another  matter,"  remarked  the 
host,  "  and  " — — 

"  How  kind !"  returned  the  lady ;  "  but  Mr.  B 

does  everything  so  agreeably  that  one  does  not  know 
which  to  admire  most — the  charm  of  his  ma/riner^ 


"The  good  hr ceding^  from  which  it  springs  !"  ex- 
claimed the  governor,  finishing  the  eulogy. 


Attending  a  lady  from  the  dinner-table  at  the  St, 
Nicholas,  in  New  York,  she  begged  me  to  wait  with 
her  for  a  few  minutes,  near  the  passage  conducting 
to  the  drawing-rooms,  saying,  playfully,  that  she 
wished  to  way-lay  a  gentleman.  "I  have  been  all 
the  morning,"  she  then  explained,  "  trying  to  meet  a 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  8S 

Kussian  friend  of  ours,  wlio  is  certainly  staying  here, 
though  we  cannot  succeed  in  seeing  him.  My  hus- 
band charged  me,  before  we  parted  this  morning,  as 
he  was  obliged  to  go  out  of  town  for  the  day,  with  a 
message  for  our  friend,  which  he  said  must  be  deli- 
vered by  me  in  person.  Ah,  there  he  is  now !"  and 
she  advanced  a  step  towards  an  elderly  gentleman 
accompanying  a  lady. 

I  released  her  arm  from  mine,  of  course,  and 
retired  a  little ;  the  other  lady  also  simultaneously 
withdrawing.     I  bowed  respectfully  to  her. 

"  Have  you  ever  chanced  to  remark  this  picture  ?" 
inquired  the  fair  stranger  of  me,  as  we  stood  thus 
near  each  other,  turning  towards  the  painting  of  the 
patron  saint  of  the  Knickerbockers,  which  graced  the 
main  staircase  of  the  hotel ;  "  it  is  very  appropriately 
selected." 

Nothing  could  be  more  unmistakably  refined  and 
high-bred  than  the  bearing  of  the  interlocutor,  while 
we  chatted  a  moment  or  two  longer. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam,  for  depriving  you  of 
your  cavalier ;  nothing  but  necessity  could  excuse  it" 
— began  the  lady,  who  had  been  talking  earnestly 
in  the  meanwhile  with  the  Russian,  approaching  us. 
She  was  at  once  relieved  from  making  further  expla- 
nation. 

"  Pray  don't  name  it — and  allow  me  to  renew  my 
slight  acquaintance  with  you,"  offering  her  hand. 

"With  pleasure,"  returned  my  fair  friend,  in- 
stantly ;  but  she  looked  a  little  puzzled,  despite  her 
courtesy. 


84 


"  I  see  you  do  not  recollect  the  weary  traveller  who 
was  so  much  obliged  to  your  politeness  in  the  hotel 
in  Washington,  the  other  night.  The  only  stranger- 
lady  (turning  to  her  attendant)  I  have  met  in  this 
country,  who  has  rendered  me  the  slightest  civility." 

All  this  was,  of  course,  quite  unintelligible  to  me, 
but  later  in  the  evening  I  had  the  honor  of  being 
introduced  to  these  strangers,  and,  incidentally, 
received  a  solution  of  the  mystery. 

While  a  pleasant  party  with  which  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  be  associated,  was  cozily  gathered  in  one 
of  the  quiet  little  drawing-rooms  of  the  St.  Nicholas, 
the  conversation  turned  upon  the  difference  of 
manners  in  different  nations.  Let  me  premise  a 
brief  explanation,  that  you  may  the  better  under- 
stand what  follows.  The  Kussian  gentleman,  whom 
I  had  seen  in  the  passage,  is  Dr.  de  H ,  a  distin- 
guished savani,  travelling  in  the  service  of  his  impe- 
rial master,  and  the  lady  whom  he  was  attending 
from  dinner  a  Frenchwoman  of  high  birth  and 
breeding.  My  fair  charge  is  the  wife  of  an  officer 
of  our  army,  who  nearly  lost  his  life  in  the  late  Mex- 
ican war,  returning  home  covered  alike  with  woundg 
and  honors,  and  with  still  I  don't  know  how  many 
bullets  in  his  body,  as  life-long  tokens  of  his  bravery. 
His  heroic  young  wife,  when  she  learned  that  he  had 
landed  at  New  Orleans,  as  soon  after  the  conclusion 
of  peace  as  his  condition  enabled  him  to  be  conveyed 
to  the  sea-board  and  make  the  voyage,  set  out  to  join 
him  at  the  South,  with  an  infant  of  only  a  few  weeks 
old,  and  herself  in  enfeebled  health. — They  had  been 


TO   POLITENESS    AND   FASHION  85 

married  but  a  short  time,   when   Col.  Y was 

ordered  to  the  seat  of  war,  and  the  lady  was  a  belle 
and  a  beauty,  of  scarce  nineteen — the  cherished  idol 
of  wealth  and  affection.  These  persons,  and  one  or 
two  others  were,  with  myself,  seated,  as  I  have  said, 
cozily  together  for  a  little  talk,  after  dinner. 

Taking  advantage   of  the  temporary  absence  of 

Mrs.  Y ,  the   Frenchwoman,  turning  to  Dr.  de 

H ,  said  :  "  What  a  charming  person  !     I  must 

tell  you  about  my  first  meeting  with  her.  You  know 
we  are  just  returned  from  a  little  tour  at  the  south 
of  this  country.  AYell,  at  Washington,  the  other 
evening  we  have  arrived,  my  husband  and  I, 
with  my  little  daughter,  Lorrette,  very  tired  and 
covered  with  dust,  at  the  hotel.  A  friend  had  enga- 
ged apartments  for  us,  two  or  three  days  before,  but 
we  were  not  conducted  to  them.  They  led  us  into  a 
sort  of  corridor,  where  gentlemen  and  ladies  were 
walking,  in  dinner  dress,  and  left  us  to  stand  against 
the  wall  for  some  time.  At  last  Yictor  told  mo  to  be 
patient,  and  he  would  go  and  see.  I  have  thought  I 
sliould  fall  down  with  fatigue  and  vexation,  and  poor 
little  Lorrette  leaned  against  me  and  was  almost 
quite  asleep.  At  this  moment,  a  lady  and  gentle- 
man who  were  sitting  in  a  little  alcove,  which  wag 
in  the  corridor,  observed  us,  as  I  saw,  though  I  tried 
to  turn  myself  from  all.  They  came  immediately  to 
us.  The  gentleman  brought  a  light  chair  in  his 
hand.  'Madam,' said  the  gentleman,  'allow  me  to 
offer  you  a  seat ;  I  am  surprised  that  Mr.  Willard 
has  no  reception-room  for  travellers.'     Before  I  could 


8(>  THE  AMERICAN  GENTLEMAN'S   GUIDE 

thank  them,  properly,  the  lady  said,  seeing  how  Lor- 
rette  had  begun  to  cry,  '  Do  come  and  sit  over  there 
in  the  little  recess ;  there  is  a  larger  chair  in  which 
the  little  girl  can  lie  down  until  you  can  get  your 
rooms.  Pray  come ' — and  all  this  with  such  a  sweet 
manner.  Seeing  that  the  gentleman  was  already 
looking  for  another  chair  to  bring  to  us,  I  went  away 
with  the  lady ;  saying,  however,  that  I  was  so  sad  to 
come  with  her  in  this  dress,  and  to  trouble  her 
When  we  were  in  the  little  alcove,  almost  by  our- 
selves, she  placed  Lorrette  on  a  little  couch,  and 
forced  me  to  sit  on  the  only  good  chair,  saying  that 
she  preferred  to  stand  a  little,  and  so  many  other 
polite,  kind  words !  Then,  while  the  gentleman 
talked  a  little  with  me,  she  began  to  tell  Lorrette 
that  her  papa  would  soon  take  her  to  a  nice  sup- 
per, and  made  her  look,  when  she  was  no  longer 
BO  tired,  at  some  nice  drawings  of  colored  birds  that 
her  friend  was  showing  her  when  they  came  to 
carry  us  to  them." 

You  must  picture  to  yourselves  the  animated 
gestures,  the  expressive  tones,  and  the  slight  Gallic 
accent  that  gave  double  significance  to  this  little 
sketch,  to  form  a  correct  idea  of  the  pleasing  effect 
produced  upon  us  all  by  the  narration.  Observing  Mi's. 
Y re-entering  the  room,  the  charming  French- 
woman only  added,  enthusiastically:  "Eeally  these 
were  persons  so  agreeable,  that  I  could  not  forget 

them ;  as  I  have  told  you  to-day,  Dr.  de  H ,  it  is 

the  only  stranger  American  lady  who  has  ever  beec 
polite  in  our  journev." 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  87 

"  Are  the  ladies  of  our  country,  then,  so  remiss  in 
politeness?*'  said  a  young  American  lady  present,  in 
a  deprecatory  tone. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam,"  returned  the 
foreigner,  "  the  Americans  are  the  most  kind-hearted 
people  in  the  world,  but  tliey  do  not  say  it !  it  is  the 
- — manner  /" 

"  I  shall  really  begin  to  think,"  said  Mrs.  V , 

"  that  there  is  some  other  cause  than  my  being  a 
brunette  for  my.  being  so  often  taken  for  a  foreigner. 
I  am  often  asked  whether  I  am  from  Kew  Orleans, 
or  of  French  extraction." 

I  am  not  surprised,"  exclaimed  Dr.  de  H , 

"my  friend  Sir  C G ,  who  saw  you  this 

morning,  asked  me  afterwards  what  country  was  you 
of?" 

"Why,  how  was  that?" 

"  He  told  me  he  had  just  given  a  servant,  that 
stupid  old  man  in  the  hall,  the  house-porter,  I 
believe  you  call  him,  a  card,  to  take  to  some  room, 
when  you  met  him,  and  directed  him  to  go  to  the 
office  with  a  message ;  but,  observing  the  card  in  his 
hand,  and  that  a  gentleman  stood  there,  you  imme- 
diately told  him  to  go  first  with  the  card  and  you 
would  wait  for  him." 

Here  the  silvery  laugh  of  Mrs.  Y interrupted 

the  Kussian.  "  Excuse  me,"  said  she,  "  I  remember 
it ! — that  old  porter,  who  always  makes  a  mistake,  if  it 
is  possible,  has  so  often  annoyed  me,  that  this  time  I 
was  determined,  as  it  was  a  person  I  much  wished 
to  see,  not  to  lose  riy  visitor  through  him,  so,  after 


88  THE  AMERICAN  UENTIEMAn's   GUIDE 

waiting  some  time  in  one  of  these  rooms,  I  went  to 
him  to  inquire,  and  sent  him  to  the  office,  when  I 
found  that  my  poor  friend  was  waiting  there,  while 
J  waited  here.  Observing  a  gentleman  who  seemed 
already  to  have  required  his  services,  I  bade  him  go 
first  for  liim,  of  course.  ^  Afres  vous^  madame^  je 
vous  jprie^'^  said  he,  with  the  most  courtly  air ; — 

so  that  was  Sir  C G ?" 

"  Yes,  madam,"  answered  the  savant,  "  but  it  was 

your  air  that  was  remarkable !     Sir  C told  me 

that  while  you  both  were  waiting  there  you  ad- 
dressed some  polite  remark  to  him,  pour  passer  le 
temps,  and  that  he  thought  you  were  not  an  Ameri 
can  lady,  because  you  spohe  to  him  /" 

^  Speaking  of  not  speaking^''  said  I,  when  the 
general  amusement  had  abated,  "reminds  me  of  an, 
amusing  little  scene  that  I  once  witnessed  in  the 
public  parlor  of  a  New  England  tavern,  where  I 
was  compelled  to  wait  several  hours  for  a  stage- 
coach. Presently  there  entered  a  bustling,  sprightly- 
looking  little  personage,  who,  after  frisking  about  the 
room,  apparently  upon  a  tour  of  inspection,  finally 
settled  herself  very  comfortably  in  the  large  cush- 
ioned rocking-chair — the  only  one  in  the  room — and 
was  soon,  as  I  had  no  reason  to  doubt,  sound  asleep. 
It  was  not  long,  however,  before  a  noise  of  some  one 
entering  aroused  her,  and  a  tall,  gaunt  old  Yankee 
woman,  hung  round  with  countless  bags,  bonnet- 
boxes,  and  nondescript  appendages  of  various  sizes 

*  After  you  are  served,  madam,  I  beg. 


TO  POLITENESS   ANB    FA80I0K.  89 

and  kinds,  presented  herself  to  oiir  vision.  After 
slowly  relieving  herself  of  the  mimberless  incum- 
brances that  impeded  her  progress  in  life,  she  turned 
to  a  young  man  who  accompanied  her,  and  said,  in  a 
tone  so  peculiarly  shrill,  that  it  might  have  been 
mistaken,  at  this  day,  for  a  railroad  whistle : 

"  '  Now,  Johnathan,  don't  let  no  grass  grow  under 
your  feet  while  you  go  for  them  tooth-ache  drops ;  I 
am  a'mos'  crazy  with  pain !'  laying  a  hand  upon 
the  affected  spot  as  she  spoke ;  "  and  here,"  she 
called  out,  as  the  door  was  closing  upon  her  messen- 
ger, 'just  get  my  box  filled  at  the  same  time!' 
diving,  with  her  disengaged  hand,  into  the  unknown 
depths  of,  seemingly,  the  most  capacious  of  pockets, 
and  bringing  to  light  a  shining  black  box,  of  sufficient 
size  to  hold  all  the  jewels  of  a  modern  belle,  'I 
thought  I  brought  along  my  snuff-bladder,  but  I 
don't  know  where  I  put  it,  my  head  is  so  stirred 
up.' 

"  By  this  time  the  little  woman  in  the  rocking-chair 
W'as  fairly  aroused,  and  rising,  she  courteously 
offered  her  seat  to  the  stranger,  her  accent  at  once 
betraying  her  claim  to  be  ranked  with  the  politest 
of  nations  (a  bow,  on  my  part,  to  the  fair  foreigner 
in  the  group).  With  a  prolonged  stare,  the  old 
worhan  coolly  ensconced  herself  in  the  vacated  seat, 
making  not  the  slightest  acknowledgment  of  the 
civility  she  had  received.  Presently,  she  began  to 
groan,  rocking  herself  furiously  at  the  same  time. 
The  former  occupant  of  the  stuffed  chair,  who  had 
retired  to  a  window,  and  perched  herself  in  one  of 


90 

a  long  row  of  high  wooden  seats,  hurried  to  the  suf- 
ferer. "  I  fear,  madame,"  said  she,  "  that  you 
Buifare  ver'  much: — vat  can  I  do  for  you?"  The 
representative  of  Yankeedom  might  have  been  a 
wooden  clock-case  for  all  the  response  she  made  to 
this  amiable  inquiry,  unless  her  rocking  more 
furiously  tlian  ever  might  be  construed  into  a  reply. 

The  little  Frenchwoman,  apparently  wholly  un- 
able to  class  so  anomalous  a  specimen  of  humanity, 
cautiously  retreated. 

Before  I  was  summoned  away,  the  tooth-ache 
drops  and  the  snuff  together  (both  administered  in 
large  doses !)  seemed  to  have  gradually  produced 
the  effect  of  oil  poured  upon  troubled  waters. 

The  sprightly  Frenchwoman  again  ventured  upon 
the  theatre  of  action. 

"You  find  yourself  now  much  improved,  ma- 
dame ?"  she  asked,  with  considerable  vivacity.  A 
very  slight  nod  was  the  only  answer. 

"  And  you  feel  dis  fauteuil^  really  ver'  com-for- 
ta-Ue  .^"  pursued  the  little  woman,  with  augmented 
energy  of  voice.  Another  nod  was  just  discern 
ble. 

No  intonation  of  mine  can  do  justice  to  the  very 
ecstasy  of  impatience  with  which  the  pertinacious! 
questioner  now  actually  screamed  out : 

"  Bien,  madame,  vil  you  say  so,  if  you  please  I" 


1  meant  to  repeat  an  impressive  little  story  told  ub 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  91 

by  my  lovely  friend,  Mrs.  Y ,  before  our  merry 

little  party  separated  that  night ;  but,  even  were  this 
letter  not  already  too  "  long  drawn  out,"  I  find  my 
head  in  very  much  the  condition  of  that  of  the  old 
Yankee  woman,  whom,  I  trust,  I  have  immortalized, 
and  will,  therefore,  reserve  it  for  another  time,  hop- 
ing that  you  will  pay  me  the  compliment  to  recol- 
lect my  description  of  my  dramatis  personce  until 
then. 


Meanwhile,  here  is  one  other  anecdote  for  you: 
During  my  usual  morning  ride,  one  day  lately,  I 
stopped  to  breathe  my  horse  on  the  top  of  a  little 
hill,  in  the  suburbs  of  one  of  the  villages  upon  the 
banks  of  the  Hudson.  While  enjoying  the  beauty 
of  the  fine  landscape  before  me,  my  horse,  all  on  a 
sudden,  started  violently.  I  presently  discovered 
the  cause  of  his  fright.  Some  little  rascals  were  at 
play  in  the  unenclosed  yard  of  an  old  building  near, 
and  one  of  them  was  throwing  lumps  of  earth, 
pieces  of  broken  crockery,  rusty  sheet-iron,  etc.,  upon 
the  plank-walk  in  front.  As  I  turned  my  head 
towards  them,  a  little  urchin  who  was  perched  upon 
a  knob  of  the  root  of  a  tree,  with  his  hands  upon  his 
knees,  cried  out,  energetically  :  "  There  now,  look-a 
there  !  Ain't  you  a  pretty  fellow  ?  dirtying  up  the 
walk  so,  when  people  are  going  by."  His  little 
freckled  face  expressed  real  concern,  as  he  looked 
fixedly  up  the  walk.  Glancing  in  the  same  direc- 
tion,  I    saw    an    elegantly-dressed    lady  carefully 


92  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

gathering  up  lier  dress,  preparatory  to  encountering 
the  sharp  obstacles  in  her  path,  and  at  once  understood 
the  cause  of  the  reproof  I  had  overheard,  and  which 
I  assure  you,  I  have  transcribed  verbatim^  though 
the  phrase  "  pretty  fellow  "  may  seem  incongruous 
in  the  mouth  of  a  dirty  little  Irish  boy.  I  only  hope 
the  lady — whose  gentle  smile  indicated  that  she  too 
understood  the  scene — was  compensated  for  being  so 
incommoded,  by  discerning  the  inbred  politeness  of 
her  little  champion. 


As  it  is  your  desire  that  I  should  deal  rather  with 
practical  realities  than  with  generalities  or  theories, 
let  us  come  in  my  next,  without  preliminaries,  to  plain 
suggestions,  presented  somewhat  in  detail,  with  the 
usual  simplicity  and  frankness  of  that  "  plain,  blunt 
man," 

Your  affectionate  uncle 

Hai. 


TO   POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  93 


LETTER  lY. 

manner  continued  : — practical  directions. 

My  dear  ITephews  : 

If  I  riglitly  remember,  I  concluded  my 
last  letter  to  my  young  correspondents  with  a  promise 
of  attempting  in  my  next,  some  practical  directions 
in  regard  to  Manner.  I  will,  then,  commence,  at  once 
premising  only  in  the  impressive  words  of  the  im- 
mortal senator,  who  just  at  present  holds  so  large  a 
space  in  the  world's  eye  :  "  In  now  opening  this  great 
matter,  I  am  not  insensible  to  the  austere  demands 
of  the  occasion." 

Important  as  Manner  undonbtedly  is,  in  every  re- 
lation of  life,  the  cultivation  of  an  unexceptionable 
deportment  at  home^  may,  perhaps,  be  regarded  as  of 
primary  consequence,  in  securing  the  happiness  at 
which  all  aim,  though  by  means, 

"  variable  as  the  shade, 


By  the  light,  quivering  aspen  made." 

I  think  I  have  already  incidentally  alluded  to  the 
bad  taste,  to  give  it  no  severer  name,  so  commonly 


94:  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN'S   GriDE 

exhibited  by  young  persons  in  this  country,  in  their 
conduct  towards  parents.    Let  nothing  tempt  yoiOy  1 
pray  you,  into  habits  so  discreditable.     Manhood  is 
never  depreciated  by  any  true  estimate,  when  yield- 
ing tribute  to  the  claims   of  age. — ^Towards  your 
father  preserve  always  a  deferential  manner,  mingled 
with  a  certain  frankness,  indicating  that  thorough 
confidence,  that  entire  understanding  of  each  other, 
which  is  the  best  guarantee  of  good  sense  in  both,  and 
of  inestimable  value  to  every  young  man,  blessed  with 
a  right-minded  parent.     Accept  the  advice  dictated 
by  experience  with  respect,  receive   even  reproof 
without  impatience  of  manner,  and  hasten  to  prove 
afterwards,  that  you  cherish   no  resentful  remem- 
brance of  what  may  even  have  seemed  to  you  top  great 
severity,  or  too  manifest  an  assumption  of  authority. 
Heed  the  counsel  of  an  old  man,  who  "  through  the 
loop-holes  of  retreat "  looks  calmly  on  the  busy  tide 
of  life  rolling  forever  onward,  and  let  the  sod  that 
closes  over  the  heart  that  throbs  no  more  even  with 
affection  and  anxiety  for  you,  leave  for  you  only  the 
pain  of  parting — not  the  haunting  demon  oi remorse. 
Allow  no  false  pride,  no  constitutional  obstinacy,  to 
interfere  with  the  better  impulses  of  your  nature,  in 
your  intercourse  with  your  father,  or  to  interrupt  for 
an  hour  the  manly  trust  that  should  be  between  you. 
And  in  the  inner  temple  of  home,  as  well  as  when 
the  world  looks  on,  render  him  reverence  due. 

There  should  be  mingled  with  the  habitual  deference 
and  attention  that  marks  your  manner  to  your  mother^ 
the  indescribable  tenderness  and  rendering  back  of 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  95 

care  and  watchfulness  that  betokens  remembrance  of 
her  love  in  earlier  days.  ISTo  other  woman  should 
ever  induce  you  to  forget  this  truest,  most  disinter- 
ested friend,  nor  should  your  manner  ever  indicate 
even  momentary  indifference  to  her  wishes  or  her 
affection.  Permit  me  again  to  refer  you  to  the  ex- 
ample of  our  country^ s  jpride  in  this  regard.  You  will 
all  remember  his  marked  attention,  through  life,  to 
his  only  parent,  and  the  fact  that  his  first  appearance 
in  public,  on  a  festive  occasion,  after  the  triumph  of 
Yorkstown,  was  in  attendance  upon  his  mother  at  the 
ball  given  at  Fredericksburgh,  in  celebration  of  that 
event.  A  fair  friend  of  mine,  who  has  written  the 
most  enthusiastically-appreciative  description  of  this 
memorable  scene  that  I  remember  to  have  read,  char- 
acterizes the  manner  of  WashiDgtou  as  illustrating 
the  moral  suUime,  to  a  degree  that  filled  all  behold- 
ers with  admiration.  But  no  one  needs  the  examples 
of  history,  or  the  promptings  of  friendship,  to  convince 
him  of  a  duty  to  which  the  impulses  of  nature  un- 
mistakably direct  him  :  all  that  I,  for  a  moment, 
suppose  you  require,  is  to  be  reminded  that  no 
thoughtlessness  should  permit  your  manner  to  do 
injustice  to  your  feelings,  in  this  sacred  relation  of 
life. 

The  familiarity  of  domestic  intercourse  should  never 
degenerate  into  a  rude  disregard  for  the  restraints 
imposed  by  refinement,  nor  an  unfeeling  indifference 
to  the  feelings  of  others.  With  brothers  and  sisters 
even,  the  sense  of  equality  should  be  tempered  by 
habitual  self-restraint  and    courtesy.     "No  man  is 


9e 


great  to  his  valet  de  chambre  " — no  man  grows,  by 
the  Buperior  gifts  of  nature,  or  by  the  power  of  cir- 
cumstance, beyond  the  genial  familiarity  of  domestic 
intercourse.  You  may  be  older  and  wiser  than  your 
brothers,  but  no  prerogatives  of  birthright,  of  edu- 
cation, or  of  intellect  can  excuse  assumption,  or 
make  amends  for  the  rupture  of  the  natural  tie  that 
is  best  strengthened  by  affectionate  consideration 
and  respect. 

To  his  sisters,  every  man  owes  a  peculiar  obliga- 
tion arising  from  the  claim  nature  gives  them  to  his 
protection,  as  well  as  to  his  love  and  sympathy.  !N"or 
is  this  relative  claim  wholly  abrogated  even  by  their 
being  older  than  he.  The  attributes  and  the  admitted 
rights  of  our  sex  give  even  younger  brothers  the 
privilege, — and  such  every  well  constituted  man  will 
consider  it, — of  assuming  towards  such  relations  the 
position  of  a  friend,  confidant  and  guardian.  And 
the  manner  of  a  gentleman  will  always  indicate,  un- 
mistakably, the  delicacy,  the  consideration  and  the 
respect  he  considers  due  to  them.  I  will  not  assume 
the  possibility  of  your  being  indifferent  to  their  love 
and  interest ;  suffice  it  to  say,  that  both  will  be  best 
deserved  and  preserved  by  a  careful  admingling  of 
the  observances  of  politeness  practised  towards  other 
women,  with  the  playful  freedom  sanctioned  by  con- 
sanguinity. The  world  will  give  you  no  substitutes 
for  the  friends  nature  provides — they  are  bound  to 
you  by  all  ties  unitedly.  Be  ever  mindful  that  no 
rude  touch  of  yours,  sunders  or  even  weakens  the  ten- 
derest  chords  of  the  heart. 


TO    POLITENESS   AND    FASHION.  ^T 

m 
Since 

"  modest  the  manners  by  Nature  bestowed 

On  Nature's  most  exquisite  child," 

a  man's  conduct  towards  his  wife  should  always 
indicate  respect  as  well  as  politeness.  No  rude 
familiarity  should  outrage  the  delicacy  that  veils 
femininity,  no  outward  indifference  or  neglect  beto- 
ken disregard  of  the  sacred  claims  of  the  woman, 
whom,  next  to  his  mother,  every  man  is  bound  in 
honor,  to  distinguish  beyond  all  others,  by  courteous 
observance.  If  you  consider  the  affection  you  doubt- 
less took  some  pains,  originally,  to  win,  worth  pre- 
serving, if  you  think  it  of  any  moment  to  retain  the 
attributes  ascribed  to  you  by  the  object  of  that  affec- 
tion, while  you  made  the  endeavor  to  do  full  justice 
to  yourself  in  the  eyes  of  your  mistress,^  would  it  be 
wise  to  prefer  no  further  claims  to  such  characteris- 
tics by  your  manner  to  your  wife  ?  I  have  never 
forgotten  the  impression  made  upon  me  in  youth  by 
an  exquisite  letter  in  one  of  Addison's  Spectators, 
purporting  to  be  written  by  an  old  woman,  in  regard, 
if  I  remember,  to  the  very  point  we  are  now  discuss- 
ing. It  contains,  as  inclosed  to  the  Solon  of  polite 
laws  in  that  day,  a  note  represented  to  have  been 

*  I  shall  take  the  liberty  to  use  the  word  "  mi«<r<5M,"  throughout 
<hese  letters,  in  the  sense  appropriated  to  it  by  Addison,  Johnson, 
and  other  English  classic  authors.  Sweetheart  is  too  old-fashioned. 
"  Lady-love  "  suits  the  style  of  my  fashionable  nieces,  better  than  mine. 
Mistress  is  an  authorized  Saxon  word,  of  well-defined  meaning, 
though,  like  some  others,  perverted  to  a  bad  use,  at  times. 


98  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN'S   GUIDE 

written  to  her,  by  the  husband  of  the  lady,  from  a 
London  coffee-house,  upon  some  emergency,  which 
is  the  very  embodiment  of  gentle  courtesy,  and  con- 
cluding with  a  respectful  apology  for  the  coarse 
paper,  and  other  unseemly  appliances  of  the  commu- 
nication. "  Could  you  see  the  withered  hand  that 
indites  this,  dear  Mr.  Spectator,"  says  the  correspon- 
dent of  Addison,  "you  would  be  still  more  impressed 
by  the  gallantry  that  remains  thus  unimpaired  by 
time,''  or  words  to  that  effect.  I  have  not  the  origi- 
nal to  transcribe  from,  and  the  copy  in  my  mental 
toMets  is  a  little  dimmed  by  the  wear  of  years.  But 
though  the  exact  phraseology  of  the  number  I  allude 
to  is  indistinct,  I  repeat  that  I  have  a  thousand  times 
recalled  the  substance  with  the  same  pure  pleasure 
and  admiration.  I  have  not  half  done  justice  to  it, 
and,  indeed,  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  have  so  poorly 
sketched  a  picture  whose  beauty  you  may  best  ap- 
preciate by  personal  inspection.  ]^o  tyro  should 
attempt  a  copy  of  the  production  of  an  old  master — • 
especially  when  the  mental  magician  fails  to  place 
the  original  before  his  mind's  eye, 

*'  Pictured  fair,  in  memory's  mystic  glass," 

But  if  you  do  not  despise  such  old-fashioned  litera- 
ture as  the  writings  of  the  English  classic  authors — 
and  certainly,  without  undue  prejudice  in  their  favor, 
I  may  venture,  I  think,  to  say,  that  a  knowledge  of 
the  writings  of  such  men  as  Johnson,  Goldsmith, 
Burke,  and  Addison,  should  make  part  of  the  educa- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  99 

tion  of  every  gentleman — if  you  will  look  up  this 
elegant  essay,  and  read  it  for  yourselves,  I  can  safely 
promise  you  ample  remuneration  for  your  trouble. 

Do  not  degrade  your  own  ideal  by  a  too  minute 
scrutiny,  nor  forget  that  the  shrine  of  the  Lares^  though 
it  may  be  approached  with  the  simplest  offerings,  is 
desecrated  by  even  a  momentary  forgetfulness  that 
its  votaries  should  be 

"  Content  to  dwell  in  decencies^  forever  P* 

Tlie  chosen  friend  of  your  life,  the  presiding  genius 
of  your  home,  the  mother  of  your  children,  then, 
not  only  claims  the  high  place  of  trust  and  confi- 
dence, but  the  lyroof  afforded  ly  manner  of  the  exist- 
ence and  dominance  of  these  sentiments. 

Many  men,  with  the  kindest  feelings  and  the 
clearest  perceptions  of  duty,  are,  from  mere  inadver- 
tency, unobservant  of  the  fact  that  they  habitually 
give  pain  to  those  dependent  on  them  for  considera- 
tion, by  neglecting  those  graces  of  manner  that  lend 
a  charm  to  the  most  trifling  actions.  Remember, 
while  you  are  forming  habits,  in  this  respect,  how 
sensitively  constituted  are  the  gentler  sex,  how  easily 
pained,  how  easily  pleased.  The  more  discriminat- 
ing and  affectionate  is  woman,  the  more  readily  is 
she  wounded.  Like  a  harp  of  a  thousand  strings, 
her  nature,  if  rudely  approached,  is  jarred  respon- 
sively,  while  the  gentlest  touch  elicits  an  harmonious 
thrill.  The  delightful  abandon  that  constitutes  one 
of  the  most  exquisite  enjoyments  of  home,  is  not  aug- 


100 

mented,  for  a  man  of  true  refinement,  by  a  total  disre« 
gard  of  ceremony  and  self-restraint.  Selfishness,  ill- 
humor,  and  a  spirit  of  petty  tyranny,  rest  assured, 
though  their  manifestation  be  confined  to  home 
intercourse,  and  borne  in  silence  there,  will  gradu- 
ally undermine  character  and  essentially  diminish 
domestic  happiness. 

Earnestly,  therefore,  do  I  admonish  my  youthful 
relatives  to  cultivate  a  careful  observance  of  tho 
requisitions  of  what  has  been  well  designated  as 
"  domestic  politeness.''^  Confer  favors  with  ready 
cheerfulness,  or,  if  necessary,  refuse  them  with  an 
expression  of  regret,  or  a  polite  explanation.  ISTever 
repel  solicitations,  much  less  caresses,  with  impa- 
tience, nor  allow  your  bearing  to  indicate  the  reluc- 
tant discharge  of  a  duty  that  should  also  be  a  plea- 
sure. A  smile,  an  intonation  of  affection,  a  glance 
of  appreciation  or  acknowledgment — small  artillery 
all,  I  grant,  my  boys,  but  they  will  suffice  to  make  a 
feU'de-joie  in  a  loving  heart,  that  will,  each  and 
every  one  of  them,  cause  you  to  be  followed  in  the 
thorny  path  of  daily  life  by  a  blessing  that  will  not 
harm  you ;  they  will  secure  you  a  welcome,  when, 
world- worn,  you  shall  '  homeward  plod  your  weary 
way,'  worth  all  the  gold  you  have  gathered,  and 
well  rewarding  all  the  toil  you  have  encountered. 

I  will  only  add,  in  this  connection,  that  manhood 
is  ennobled  by  the  habitual  exercise  of  delicate  for- 
bearance towards  helplessness  and  dejpendence^  and 
that  a  high  test  of  character  is  the  right  use  ofjpowen 
Those,  then,  whom  nature  teaches  to  look  to  you  for 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  lOl 

affection,  as  well  as  for  care  and  protection — your 
mother,  wife,  sisters — should  invariably  derive  from 
your  manner  evidence  of  the  steadfastness  of  your 
interest  and  regard  for  them. 

Xike  most  of  the  aphorisms  of  the  ancients  for 
subtle  wisdom,  is  the  saying,  "  We  should  reverence 
the  presence  of  children."  Fresh  from  the  creating 
hand  of  Deity,  they  are  committed  to  us.  "While 
yet  unstained  by  the  pollutions  of  the  world,  should 
we  not  render  a  certain  homage  to  their  pristine 
purity  and  innocence?  Should  we  not  hesitate  by 
exhibitions  of  such  qualities  of  our  nature  as  are 
happily  still  dormant  in  them,  to  force  them  into  pre- 
cocious development?  The  silent  teaching  of  ex-- 
ample  tells  most  effectively  upon  the  young  for  the 
reason  that  they  are  insensibly  forming  in  imitation 
of  the  models  before  them,  without  the  disadvan- 
tages of  previous  habit,  or  of  diminished  impressi- 
bility. It  is  no  light  sin,  then,  either  in  our  man- 
ner towards  them,  or  towards  others  in  their  pres- 
ence, to  obtrude  a  false  standard  of  propriety  upon 
their  notice.  If  manner  be,  as  we  have  assumed, 
active  manifestation  of  character,  the  ductile  minds 
of  these  nice  observers  and  ceaseless  imitators  must 
be  indeed  seriously  under  its  influences.  That  care- 
ful study  of  individual  peculiarities  which  paternal 
duty  imperatively  demands,  will  readily  suggest  {\\q 
proper  modification  of  manner  demanded  by  each 
different  child  in  a  household.  It  is  said  that  chil- 
dren  are  never  mistaken  judges  of  character.  Certain 
it  is,  at  least,  that  they  instinctively  discern  their  tru© 


102  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN'S   GUIDE 

friends,  and  that  of  the  '^Kingdom  of  Heaven,"  as  by 
divine  assertion  they  are — the  Law  of  Love,  attem- 
pered in  its  administration  by  practical  good  sense, 
is  the  most  efi'ective  influence  that  can  be  brought 
to  bear  upon  them.  Permit  me  to  recall  to  your 
remembrance  the  tenderness  that  distinguished  the 
manner  of  Christ  tovrards  little  children. 

Pre-supposirig  as  I  have  done,  thus  far  in  this  letter, 
and  as  I  shall  continue  to  do,  throughout  our  corre- 
spondence, that  you  regard  moral  obligation  as  the 
grand  incentive  to  the  correct  discipline  even  of 
the  outer  man,  arrogating  to  myself  only  the  office 
of  the  lapidary, — that  of  endeavoring  to  polish,  not 
create,  the  priceless  jevrel  of  principle,  I  shall  make 
no  apology  for  the  suggestion,  that  manner  should 
not  be  regarded  as  beneath  the  attention  of  a  Cliris- 
tian  gentleman,  in  his  intercourse  with  such  inmates 
of  his  household  as  may  from  any  circumstance  be 
peculiarly  sensitive  to  indications  of  negligent  ob- 
servance. The  aged,  the  infirm,  the  insignificant^ 
the  dependent y  all,  in  short,  who  are  particularly 
afflicted  "  in  mind,  body,  or  estate,"  are  suitable  reci- 
pients of  the  most  expressive  courtesies  of  manner. 

Perhaps  no  single  phase  of  manner  at  home  more 
correctly  illustrates  nice  mental  and  moral  percep- 
tions than  the  treatment  of  servants  and  inferiors 
generally.  One  may  be  just  to  the  primary  obliga- 
tions evolved  by  this  relation  to  others,  and  yet  al- 
ways receive  the  service  of  fear  rather  than  of  affec- 
tion. All  needless  assumption  of  authority  or  supe- 
riority, in  connection  with  this  position,  is  indicative 


TO   POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  lOS 

of  iulierent  vulgarity,  and  is  at  as  great  a  remove  from 
a  true  standard  as  is  undue  familiarity.  Never  to 
manifest  pleasure  even  by  a  smile,  never  to  make 
an  acknowledgment  in  words,  of  the  kindly  offices 
that  money  cannot  adequately  reward,  may  be  very 
grand  and  stately,  but  such  sublime  elevation  above 
one's  fellow-creatures  raises  the  heart  to  rather  an 
Alpine  attitude — to  a  height  at  which  the  milJc  of 
JiumanJcindness  even,  may  congeal! 

Always  accept  voluntary  service  with  the  slight 
acknowledgment  that  suffices  to  indicate  your  con- 
sciousness of  it,  nor  deem  it  unworthy  of  one  pil- 
grim upon  the  great  highway  of  life  to  cheer  another 
upon  whom  the  toil  and  burden  falls  heaviest,  by  a 
smile  or  a  word  of  encouragement.  The  language 
of  request  is,  as  a  rule,  in  better  taste  than  that  of 
command,  and,  in  most  instances,  elicits  more  ready, 
as  well  as  cheerful  obedience.  Scott  makes  Queen 
Elizabeth  say,  on  a  momentous  occasion,  "  Sussex,  I 
entreat ;  Leicester,  I  command  !"  "  But,"  adds  the 
author,  "  the  entreaty  sounded  like  a  command,  and 
the  command  was  uttered  in  a  tone  of  entreaty."  Can 
you  make  only  a  lesson  in  elocution  out  of  this ;  or 
will  it  also  illustrate  our  present  theme  ? 

F(3W  persons  who  have  not  had  their  attention 
called  to  this  subject,  have  any  just  conception  of  the 
real  benefits  that  may  be  conferred  upon  those 
beneath  us  in  station  by  a  'pleasant  word  uttered  in 
a  pleasant  tone.  Like  animals  and  young  children, 
uneducated  persons  are  peculiarly  susceptible  to  all 
external  influences.     They  are  easily  amused,  easily 


104 

gratified — shall  I  add,  easily  satisfied^  mentally  ?  The 
comparatively  vacant  mind  readily  admits  an  impres- 
sion from  without ;  hence,  he  who  ''  whistles  for  want 
of  thought,"  will  whistle  more  cheerily  for  the  intro- 
duction of  an  agreeable  remembrance,  into  the  un- 
furnished "  chambers  of  imagery,"  and  the  humble 
plodder  who  relieves  us  of  a  portion  of  the  dead 
weight  that  oppresses  humanity,  will  go  on  his  way 
rejoicing ;  ofttimes  for  many  a  weary  mile,  im- 
pelled by  a  single  word  of  encouragement  from 
his  superior  officer  in  the  "  Grand  Army  "  of  life. 
But  I  hear  you  say,  "  Uncle  Hal  grows  military — 
*  the  ruling  passion  strong '  even  in  letter- writing. 
Like  the  dying  Napoleon,  his  last  words  will  be 
'  Tete  d'Armee  ! ' " — ^Well,  well,  boys !  pardon  an  old 
man's  diffuseness ! — ^his  twilight  dullness ! 

There  are  occasions  when  to  talk  to  servants  and 
other  employes,  make  part  of  a  humane  bearing 
towards  them.  To  converse  with  them  in  relation 
to  their  affairs  rather  than  our  own,  is  the  wiser 
course,  and  to  mingle  a  little  appropriate  instruction 
withal,  may  not  be  amiss.  Eemember,  too,  how 
easily  undisciplined  persons  are  frightened  by  an 
imperious,  or  otherwise  injudicious,  manner  on  the 
part  of  their  superiors,  out  of  the  self-possession  essen- 
tial to  their  comprehension  of  our  wants  and  lan- 
guage. 


I  believe  even  the  American  author  who  has  long 
concentrated  his  mental  energies  in  elaborating  th^ 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  105 

literary  apotheosis  of  N'apoUon  le  Grand^  has  not 
ascribed  to  his  idol  excessive  refinement  of  manner. 
His  attempts  at  playfulness  always  degenerated  into 
buffoonery,  and  his  habitual  bearing  towards  women, 
in  whatever  relation  they  stood  to  him,  was  unmis- 
takable evidence  of  his  utter  want  of  nicety  of  per- 
ception on  this  point. 

Holding  a  reception,  on  one  occasion,  in  a  gallery 
of  the  Tuileries  for  his  relatives,  his  mother  was 
present,  with  others  of  his  family.  The  emperor 
proffered  his  hand  to  each  in  turn  to  kiss.  Last  of 
all,  his  venerable  parent  approached  him.  As 
before,  he  proffered  his  hand.  With  an  air  worthy 
of  the  severe  dignity  of  a  matron  of  early  Grecian 
days,  *'  Madame  Mere  "  waved  it  aside,  and,  extend- 
ing her  own,  said,  "  You  are  the  king,  the  emperor, 
of  all  the  rest,  but  you  are  my  son  /"  Would  a  man 
imbued  with 

"  The  fair  humanities  of  old  religion  " 

have  needed  such  a  rebuke,  from  such  a  source, 
think  you?" 

Bonaparte  was  quite  as  stringent  in  his  enforce- 
ment of  court  rules,  in  regard  to  dress  and  all  mat- 
ters of  detail,  as  Louis  XIY.  himself,  and  often  quite 
as  absurd  as  the  "  Grand  Monarque  "  in  his  requisi- 
tions.— Abruptly  approaching  a  high-born  lady  of  the 
old  regime^  one  of  the  members  of  Josephine's  house- 
hold, who  from  illness  (and,  perhaps,  disgust  com- 
mingled) had  disobeyed  an  edict  commanding  full 
dress  at  an   early  hour  on  a  particular  morning, 

6* 


106 


as  she  leaned  against  a  window  in  this  same  gallery 
of  the  Tuileries,  the  First  Consul  contemptuously 
kicked  aside  lier  train,  at  the  same  time  addressing 
the  wearer  in  an  outburst  of  coarse  vituperation. 

Madame  Junot  records  a  characteristic  illustration 
of  !N^apoleon's  unmanly  disregard  of  the  constitutional 
timidity  of  his  first  wife,  as  well  as  of  his  manner 
towards  her  in  general. 

As  they  were  about  to  cross  a  turbulent  stream 
upon  an  insecure-looking  bridge,  in  a  carriage,  the 
Empress  expressed  a  wish  to  alight.  Napoleon  forci- 
bly interfered,  but  permitted  the  fair  narrator  of  the 
incident,  who  was  in  the  carriage  with  them,  to  do  so, 
upon  her  informing  him  with  the  naivete  of  a  true 
French-woman,  that  there  was  a  special  reason  for 
her  avoiding  a  fright !  Josephine  wept  in  helpless 
terror,  even  when  the  ordeal  was  safely  passed.  By- 
and-by,  the  whole  cortege  stopped,  and  every  one 
alighted ;  the  imperial  tyrant  rudely  seizing  the 
empress  by  the  arm,  dragged  her  towards  the  desti- 
nation of  the  party,  in  a  neighboring  wood,  saying, 
as  he  urged  her  forward :  "  You  look  ugly  when  you 
cryP 

One  of  Kapoleon's  biographers  has  said  of  liim 
that  many  passages  in  his  letters  to  Josephine 
were  such  as  no  decent  Englishman  would  ad- 
dress to  his  *lady  light  o'  love,'  and  it  is  well 
known  that  his  earliest  intercourse  with  the  proud 
daughter  of  the  House  of  Hapsburg — the  shrinking 
representative  of  the  hereditary  refinement  of  a 
long  line  of  high-bred  women — was  marked  by  the 


TO  P0LITENES3   AND   FASHION.  107 

merest  brutality.  It  was  left  to  a  citizen  of  our 
Ilepublic  to  discover,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one 
thousand,  eight  liundred  and  fifty-five,  that  this  man 
was  the  "  Washington  of  France  /"  and  to  commu 
nicate  the  marvellous  fact  to  the  present  occupant 
of  the  imperial  throne  of  the  Great  Captain — who 
is,  by  the  way,  the  grandson  of  the  repudiated 
Josephine  ! 


Steaming  along  the  Ohio,  some  years  ago,  I  had 
the  good-fortune  to  fall  in  with  the  most  agreeable 
companions,  a  father  and  son,  Kentuckians,  of  educa- 
tion and  good-breeding.  The  father  had  won  high 
public  honors  in  his  native  State,  and  the  son  was  just 
entering  upon  a  career  demanding  the  full  exercise 
of  his  fine  natural  gifts.  I  was  particularly  attracted 
by  the  cordial  confidence  and  affection  these  gentle- 
men manifested  towards  each  other,  and  by  the 
manly  deference  rendered  by  the  youth  to  his 
venerable  sire. 

A  storm  drove  us  all  into  the  cabin,  in  the  evening, 
and,  while  the  elder  of  my  two  new  friends  and  I 
pursued  a  quiet  conversation  in  one  part  of  the  room, 
his  son  joined  a  group  of  young  men  at  some  dis- 
tance from  us.  Gradually  the  mirth  of  those  young- 
sters became  so  roisterous  as  to  disturb  our  talk. 
Hot  and  hotter  waged  their  sport,  loud  and  louder 
grew  their  laughter,  until  our  voices  were  fairly 
drowned,  at  intervals.  More  than  once,  I  saw  the 
punctilious  gentleman  of  the  old  school  glance  to 


108 


wards  the  meny  party,  of  which,  by  the  way,  his  sou 
was  one  of  the  least  boisterous.  At  length  he  spoke, 
and  his  clear,  calm  voice  rang  like  a  trumpet-note 
through  the  aj>artment : 

"  Frederick !"— there  was  an  instant  lull  in  the 
storm,  and  the  faces  of  each  of  the  group  turned  to 
us — "  make  a  little  less  noise,  if  you  please." 

The  youth  rose  immediately  and  advanced  to- 
wards us  :  "  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  with  a  heightened 
color  and  a  respectful  bow,  "  I  beg  your  pardon  1 
I  really  was  not  aware  of  being  so  rude." 

I  said  something  about  the  very  natural  buoyancy 
of  youthful  spirits ;  but  I  did  not  say  that  this  little 
scene  had  the  effect  upon  me  that  might  be  produced 
by  unexpectedly  me^^ting,  in  the  log-hut  of  a  back- 
woodsman, with  a  painting  by  an  old  master,  repre- 
senting some  fine  incident  of  classical  or  chivalrous 
history — as,  for  instance,  the  youthful  Roman  restor- 
ing tlie  beautiful  virgin  prisoner  to  her  friends  with 
the  words,  "far  be  it  from  Scipio  to  purchase  plea- 
sure at  the  expense  of  virtue  I" 

My  pleasure  in  observing  the  intercourse  of  these 
amiable  relatives  in  some  degree  prepared  me  for 
the  enjoyment  in  store  for  the  favored  guest,  who, 
at  the  earnest  instance  of  both  father  and  son,  a  few 
days  afterwards,  turned  aside  in  his  journey  to  seek 
them,  at  home.  It  was  a  scene  worthy  the  taste 
and  the  pen  of  Washington  Irving  himself,  that 
quaint-looking  old  family  mansion, — in  the  internal 
arrangements  of  which  there  was  just  enough  of 
modern  comfort  and  adornment  to  typify  the  soft- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  109 

ened  conservatism  of  llie  host, — and  the  family 
group  that  welcomed  the  stranger,  with  almost 
patriarchal  simplicity  and  hospitality.  Really  it 
was  a  strange  episode  in  busy  American  life.  My 
venerable  friend  sat,  indeed,  "  under  the  shadow  of 
his  own  vine  and  fig-tree,  with  none  to  make  him 
afraid,"  reaping  the  legitimate  reward  of  an  honor- 
able, well-spent  life,  and  beside  him  the  friend  who 
had  kept  her  place  through  the  heat  and  burden  of 
the  day,  and  now  shared  the  serene  repose  of  the 
evening  of  his  life.  What  placid  beauty  still  lin- 
gered in  that  matron  face,  what  "  dignity  and  love  " 
marked  every  action !  And  the  fair  daughters  of 
the  house,  who,  like  Desdemona,  "ever  and  anon 
would  come  again  and  gather  up  our  discourse,"  in 
the  intervals  of  household  duty,  or  social  obligation — 
they  seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  and  with  their 
brother  in  every  thoughtful  and  graceful  observance 
towards  their  parents  and  towards  me,  and  the  noble 
boy — for  he  really  was  scarcely  more,  even  reck- 
oned by  the  estimate  of  this  "fast"  age — unspoiled 
by  the  dangerous  prerogatives  of  an  only  son,  mani- 
festly regarded  the  bright  young  band  of  which  he 
Btill  made  one,  with  the  mingled  tenderness  and 
pride  that  would  ever  shield  them  from 

"  The  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune." 

These  all  surrounded  my  venerable  host  and  hostess, 
as  they  gently  and  calmly  turned  their  feet  towards 
the  downward  path  of  life,  with  intertwining  hearts 


110  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN  S   GUIDE 

and  hands — like  a  garland  of  roses  enwreathing 
time-worn  twin-trees — ever  on  the  watch  to  lighten 
each  burden  they  would  fain  have  wholly  assumed, 
and  with  loving  care  striving  to  put  far  off  for  them 
the  evil  day  when  the  "  grasshopper  shall  be  a  bur- 
den." 

But  I  essay  a  vain  task  when  I  would  picture  such 
a  scene  for  you,  my  friends.  If  I  may  hope  that  I 
have  made  a  study,  from  which  you  will  catch  a 
passing  snggestion  for  future  use,  in  the  limning  of 
your  own  life-portraits,  it  is  well. 


Chancellor  K ,  who  was  my  life-long  friend, 

retained,  even  in  the  latest  years  of  his  lengthened 
life,  an  almost  youthful  sprightliness  of  feeling  and 
manner.  His  son,  himself  a  learned  and  distin- 
guished son  of  the  law,  thought  no  duty  more  impera- 
tive, even  in  the  prime  of  his  manhood  and  in  mid 
career  in  his  honorable  j^rofession,  than  that  of  devo^ 
tion  to  his  father,  in  his  declining  years.  He  fixed 
his  residence  near,  or  with,  his  venerable  parent,  and, 
like  the  son  of  ancient  Priam,  long  sustained  the 
failing  steps  of  age.  Few  things  have  impressed  me 
more  favorably,  in  my  intercourse  with  the  world, 
than  this  noble  self-sacrifice. 

!No  one  unacquainted  with  ray  vivacious  friend 
can  appreciate  the  full  expressiveness  of  his  cha- 
racteristic remark  to  me,  on  an  occasion  when  his 
son  happened  to    be    the    theme  of   conversation 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  HI 

between  us.     ^^  I  like  that  young  man  amazingly  H 
Baid  the  chancellor. 


I  still  remember  the  impression  made  on  me,  when 
a  boy,  by  meeting,  in  the  streets  of  my  native  city, 
a  stalwart  young  sailor,  arrayed  in  holiday  dress, 
and  walking  with  his  mother,  a  little,  withered  old 
woman,  in  a  decent  black  dress,  hanging  upon  his 
arm.  How  often  that  powerful  form,  the  imperso- 
nation of  youth,  health,  and  physical  activity,  has 
risen  up  before  my  mind's  eye,  in  contrast  with  the 
little,  tremulous  figure  he  supported  with  such  watch- 
ful care,  and  upon  which  such  protecting  tenderness 
breathed  from  every  feature  of  his  honest,  weather- 
embrowned  face. 


Bob  and  Charley  grew  side  by  side,  like  two  fine 
young  saplings  in  a  wood,  for  some  years.  After 
awhile,  however,  the  brothers  were  separated.  Bob 
went  to  a  large  city,  became  a  merchant,  grew  rich, 
lived  in  a  fine  house,  was  a  Bank  Director,  and  an 
Alderman.  His  younger  brother,  pursuing  a  more 
modest,  but  equally  manly  and  elevated  career,  sel- 
dom met  Bob  during  some  years,  and  then  only 
briefly  at  their  father's  house,  when  there  was  a 
family  gathering  at  Thanksgiving,  or  on  some  other 
similar  occasion. 

Once,  when  I  chanced  to  see  these  young  men  to» 
gether,  thus,  I  remarked  that,  while  the  sisters  of 
each  clung  round  the  neck  of  the  unassuming,  but 


112  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

true-hearted,  riglit-minded  Charley,  at  his  coming, 
and  lost  no  opportunity  of  being  with  hira,  the  repel- 
lant  manner  of  the  elder  brother  held  all  more  or  less 
aloof,  though  none  failed  in  polite  observance  towards 
hira.  Egotistical  and  pompous,  he  seemed  to  regard 
those  about  him  as  belonging  to  an  inferior  race. 
As  his  brother  and  I  sat  talking  together  near  a  table 
upon  which  were  refreshments,  he  actually  had  the 
rudeness  to  reach  between  us  for  a  glass,  without  the 
slightest  word  or  token  of  apology,  with  his  arm  so 
near  to  his  brother's  face  as  almost  to  touch  it  I 
There  was  more  of  shame  than  indignation  expressed 
in  that  fine,  ingenuous  countenance  when  it  again 
met  my  unobstructed  gaze,  and  I  thought  I  detected 
a  slight  tremor  in  the  sentence  he  uttered  next  in  the 
order  of  our  conversation. 

Before  my  visit  that  day  was  at  an  end,  I  found 
myself  exceedingly  embarrassed  as  an  unwilling 
auditor  of  a  political  discussion  between  Bob  and 
his  father,  which  grew,  at  length,  into  an  angry 
dispute,  little  creditable  to,  at  least,  the  younger  of 
the  two  word-combatants.  i 

As  I  stood  in  the  hall  that  night,  awaiting  my  car- 
riage, I  saw  Charley  advance  to  the  door  of  the 
library,  opening  near,  and  knock  lightly.  The  voice 
of  his  aged  father  bade  him  enter.  Opening  the 
door,  the  young  man,  taking  his  hat  quite  off,  and 
bowing  almost  reverentially,  said  only,  '*  I  bid  you 
good  night,  sir,"  and  quietly  closed  it  again.  When 
they  turned  towards  me,  there  was  almost  a  woman's 
softness  in  eyes  that  would  have  looked  undimmed 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  Il3 

upon  the  fiercest  foe  or  the  deadliest  peril. — ^Think 
you  the  Kecording  Angel  flew  up  to  Heaven's  high 
Chancery  with  a  testimony  of  that  day's  deeds  and 
words  ? 

Once,  after  this,  Charley  had  occasion  to  visit  the 
city  where  Boh  resided.  Breakfast  over,  at  his  hotel, 
he  sallied  forth  to  call  on  Bob,  at  his  own  house,  and 
attend,  subsequently,  to  other  matters. 

He  was  shown  into  an  elegant  drawing-room, 
where  the  master  of  the  mansion  sat  reading  a  news- 
paper. Without  rising,  he  offered  his  hand,  coldly, 
and  before  inviting  his  visitor  to  sit,  took  occasion  to 
say  that  his  wife's  having  an  engagement  to  spend 
the  day  out  of  town  would  prevent  his  inviting  his 
brother  to  dine ! 

As  Charley  descended  the  steps  of  his  brother's 
stately  mansion,  at  the  termination  of  his  brief  call 
that  day,  he  silently  registered  a  vow  never  again  to 
cross  his  threshold,  unless  impelled  by  imperative 
duty.  And  yet  Bob  is  not  only  a  rich  merchant,  an 
Alderman,  and  a  Bank  Director,  but  a  man  of  fashion  ! 


One  of  the  most  discriminating  and  truthful  deli- 
neators of  life  and  manners  whom  we  boast  among 
our  native  authors,  prominent  among  the  character- 
istic traits  he  ascribes  to  an  old  English  gentleman, 
of  whom  he  gives  us  an  exquisite  portraiture,  is  that 
of  such  considerate  kindness  towards  an  old  servant 
as  to  make  him  endure  his  peevishness  and  obstinacy 


lU 


,with  good  humor,  and  affect  to  consult  and  agree 
with  him,  until  he  gains  an  important  practical  point 
with  "  time-honored  age." 


Illustrative  of  our  subject  is  one  of  the  anecdotes 
recorded  of  the  poet  Eogers,  in  his  recently  published 
life: 

"  Mr.  Rogers,"  said  the  body-servant,  who  had  long 
attended  him  in  his  helpless  years,  "  we  are  invited 
to  dine  with  Miss  Coutts."  The  italicizing  is  mine. 
Is  it  not  suggestive  ? 

You  remember  the  rest  of  the  anecdote ;  Rogers 
had  the  habit,  during  the  latter  years  of  his  life,  of 
writing,  when  able  to  use  his  pen,  notes  to  be  dated 
and  directed  as  occasion  required,  in  this  established 
form  "  Pity  me,  I  am  engaged."  So,  on  this  occa- 
sion, the  careful  attendant  added  :  "  The  pity-me^a 
are  all  gone !" 


Weather-bound  during  the  long,  cold  winter  of 
18 — ,  by  a  protracted  snow-storm  and  a  severe  cold, 
in  the  house  of  an  old  friend,  I  left  my  comfortable 
private  quarters  one  morning  for  a  little  walk  up  and 
down  the  corridor  into  which  my  own  apartment  and 
those  of  the  family  opened. 

By  and  by  the  active  step  of  my  hostess  crossed 
my  sauntering  way. 

''  Perhaps  it  may  amuse  you  to  come  into  the  nur* 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  115 

seiy,  a  little  while,  colonel,"  said  she,  "  it  will  be  a 
novelty,  at  least,  to  you,  to  see  behind  the  scenes." 

"  I  feel  myself  honored  by  the  permission,  I  assure 
you ;  the  green-room  always  has  an  interest  for 
me !"  returned  I ;  and  I  was  soon  ensconced  in  a 
large,  cushioned-chair,  in  a  cozy  corner,  near  the 
open,  old-fashioned  "franklin"  in  which  blazed  a 
cheerful  wood-fire.  The  rosy-cheeked  juveniles 
among  whom  I  found  myself  vied  with  each  other 
in  efforts  to  promote  my  comfort.  One  brought  her 
own  little  chair,  and  placed  it  to  support  my  feet ; 
another  climbed  up  and  stuffed  a  soft  cushion 
greatly  larger  than  his  own  rotund,  dumpling  of  a 
figure,  between  me  and  the  chair-back,  assuring  me 
with  a  grave  shake  of  the  head,  in  which  I  saw  the 
future  Esculapius,  "  it  is  so  nice  ven  your  head  do 
ache — mamma  say  so,  ven  I  put  him  on  her  always  1" 
and  bright-eyed  little  Bessie,  between  whom  and  me 
a  very  good  understanding  already  existed,  crowned 
the  varied  hospitalities  of  my  initiatory  visit  by 
offering  me  the  use  of  her  tiny  muff ! 

My  hostess,  though  she  kept  an  observant  eye  upon 
us,  from  her  seat  by  her  work-table  over  against  my 
arm-chair,  had  too  much  tact  to  interfere  with  the 
proceedings  of  my  ministering  cherubs ;  except  to 
prevent  the  possibility  of  my  being  annoyed. 

When  I  had  leisure  to  reconnoitre  a  little,  I  dis- 
covered, among  the  other  fixtures  in  the  large,  well- 
lighted,  cheerful-looking  apartment,  an  old  woman 
with  a  good-humored  face  and  portly  person,  seated 


116 


near  a  window,  sewing,  with   a  large,  well-stored 
basket  of  unmended  linen  and  hosiery  before  her. 

Presently,  the  eldest  son,  a  fine  manly  boy  of  some 
sixteen  years  entered,  hat  and  cane  in  hand.  Used, 
I  suppose,  to  a  jumble  of  faces  and  forms,  in  this 
human  kaleidoscope,  he  evidently  did  not  observe  the 
quiet  figure  in  the  high-backed  chair.  "  Mother," 
he  exclaimed  in  a  tone  in  which  boyish  animation 
and  the  utmost  affection  were  singularly  united,  strid- 
ing across  the  room,  like  the  Colossus  of  Rhodes, 
suddenly  endued  with  powers  of  locomotion : 
"  Mother,  you  are  the  most  beautiful  and  irresistible 
of  your  beautiful  and  irresistible  sex  !"  and  stooping, 
he  pressed  his  full,  cherry  lips  gently  upon  her 
rounded  cheek. 

A  flash  of  amusement,  mingled  with  the  love-light 
in  the  soft  eyes  that  met  those  of  the  boy.  He  turned 
quickly.  A  scarcely-discernible  embarrassment  of 
manner,  and  a  quick  flush  in  the  bright  young  face, 
were  all  that  I  had  time  to  note,  before  he  was  at  my 
side  with  a  cordial  greeting  and  a  playful  welcome 
to  "  Mother's  Land  of  Promise." 

"  Land  of  !Nod,  say  rather,"  replied  the  presiding 
genius  of  the  scene,  pointing  to  the  quiescent 
form  of  little  Bessie,  who — her  curly  head  pillowed 
on  her  chubby  arm — was  just  losing  all  consciousness 
of  the  world,  upon  the  rug  at  her  mother's  feet. 

"  George,  what  an  armful  I"  said  the  youth,  in  a 
sort  of  half  undertone,  as  he  tenderly  lifted  the  little 
lay  figure,  and  bore  it  to  a  crib.     "  Don't  get  up, 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHIONi  117 

mother,  I  can  cover  her  nicely.  I  say,  mammy  [an 
arch  glance  over  his  shoulder  towards  the  ancient 
matron  of  the  sewing-basket],  how  heavy  bread  and 
milk  is,  though,  eh  !" 

"  Speaking  of  bread  and  milk,  heie  comes  lunch," 
continued  my  hero  for  the  nonce,  rubbing  his  hands 
energetically,  and  only  desisting  to  give  a  table  the 
dextrous  twirl  that  would  bring  it  near  his  mother, 
and  assist  the  labors  of  the  servant  who  had  entered 
with  a  tray. 

"Will,  you  immense  fellow,  take  yourself  out 
of  the  way  I  Colonel,  permit  me  to  give  your 
sedan-chair  j  ust  the  slightest  impulse  forward,  and 
so  save  you  the  trouble  of  moving.  My  adorable 
mother,  allow  me  the  honor  of  being  your  Gany- 
mede. Here  we  are,  all  right !  Kow,  let's  see  what 
there  is — ham,  baked  apples,  cold  roast  beef,  hot 
cocoa — ^not  so  bad,  'pon  my  word.  Colonel,  I  hope 
this  crispy  morning  has  given  you  some  appetite, 
after  your  hard  cold — allow  me  " — 

"  Mammy  fust,"  here  interposed  little  Will,  autho- 
ritatively, "  cause  she  older  dan  us !  "  and,  care- 
fully holding  the  heaped-up  plate  his  mother  placed 
in  both  hands,  he  deliberately  adventured  an  over- 
land journey  to  the  distant  object  of  his  affectionate 
solicitude. 

At  this  juncture,  it  was  discovered  that  the  servant- 
man  who  brought  up  the  tray,  had  forgotten  the 
sugar,  and  a  young  nursery-maid  was  dispatched  for 
it.  Upon  her  return  she  contrived,  by  some  awk- 
wardness in  closing  the  door,  to  spill  the  whole  result 


118  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

of  her  mission  to  the  pantry  upon  the  floor.  Her  arms 
dropped  by  her  sides,  as  if  suddenly  paralyzed,  and 
I  noticed  a  remarkable  variety  in  the  shade  of  her 
broad  Irish  physiognomy. 

"  There  is  no  great  harm  done,  Biddy,"  said  my 
hostess,  immediately,  in  a  peculiarly  quiet,  gentle 
voice,  "just  step  down  to  John  for  another  bowlful. 
While  poor  Biddy  is  collecting  her  scattered 
senses  on  the  stairs,  my  son,  will  you  kindly  assist 
Willie  in  picking  up  the  most  noticeable  lumps  ? — put 
them  in  this  saucer,  my  dear.  She  is  just  learning, 
you  know  and — she  would  not  cross  that  Kubicon  as 
bravely  as  the  classic  hero  you  were  reading  of  last 
night." 

"While  we  are  so  literary,  mother — what  is  it 
about  the  dolphin  ?  If  I  remember  rightly  Bid  was 
a  pretty  good  exemplification  " 

"  Hush ! — I  am  glad  you  thought  to  bring  up 
more  apples,  Biddy.  Colonel,  here  is  the  most 
tempting  spitzenberg — so  good  for  a  cold,  too.  Take 
this  to  mammy  will  you,  Biddy?  The  one  I  sent 
you  before,  was  not  so  nice  as  these,  mammy — ^your 
favorite  kind,  you  know." 

Amused  with  the  new  scene  in  which  I  foimd 
myself,  I  accepted  the  assurance  of  the  fair  home 
mother^  as  the  Germans  have  it,  that  I  was  not  in 
the  way,  and  lingered  a  little  longer. 

By  and  by,  John  came  up  to  tell  his  mistress  that 
there  was  an  old  man  at  the  door  with  a  basket  of 
little  things  to  sell,  and  that  he  had  sent  a  box  of 
sealing-wax  for  her  to  look  at. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  119 

"  Poo'  man !  poo'  man  ?"  said  little  "Will,  running 
lip  to  my  knee,  with  such  a  sorrowful  look  in  his  inno- 
cent face — "  an'  it  so-o-o  col',"  he  added,  catching 
his  mother's  words,  as  if  by  instinct. 

"  Take  him  down  the  money,  John,"  I  overheard, 
in  the  intervals  between  the  discourse  of  my  juvenile 
instructor,  "  and  this  cup  of  chocolate — it  will  warm 
him.  Ask  him  to  sit  by  the  hall  stove,  while  he 
drinks  it."  E'othing  was  said  about  the  exceedingly 
portly  brace  of  sandwiches  that  were  manufactured 
by  the  busiest  of  fingers,  and  which,  through  the 
golden  veil  of  Willie's  light  curls,  I  saw  snugly  tucked 
in,  on  either  side  of  the  saucer. 

"Now,  young  ladies,"  continued  my  amiable 
friend,  addressing  a  bevy  of  her  rosy-cheeked  young 
nieces,  who  had  just  before  entered  the  room,  "  here 
is  a  stick  of  fancy-colored  wax,  for  each  of  us — make 
your  own  choice.  Luckily  there  is  a  red  stick  for 
Col.  Lunettes  "  (a  half  deprecatory  glance  at  me), 
"the  only  color  gentlemen  use.  And,"  as  she 
received  the  box  again — "  there  is  some  for  mammy 
and  me — we  are  in  partnership,  you  know,  mammy !" 

A  pleased  look  from  the  centre  of  the  wide  cap- 
frills  by  the  window,  was  the  only  response  to  this 
appeal ;  but  I  had  repeatedly  observed  that,  despite 
her  industry,  mammy's  huge  spectacles  took  careful 
cognizance  of  the  various  proceedings  around  her. 

As  I  was  about,  for  very  shame,  to  beat  a  retreat, 
a  cheery — "  good  morning,  Colonel,  I  tapped  at  your 
door,  as  I  came  ap,  and  thought  you  were  napping 
it,"  arrested  my  intended  departure.     "  So  wifie  has 


120 


coaxed  you  in  here  I  Just  like  her !  She  thinks 
she  can  take  the  best  care  of  you  with" — 

"  With  the  rest  of  the  children  I"  I  interrupted. 

"  My  lovirig  sjpou^''  as  Bessie  says,  when  she  recites 
John  Gilpin,  "may  I  trouble  you  to  tie  my  cravat?" 
And  with  that  important  article  of  attire  in  his  hand, 
my  friend  knelt  upon  a  low  foot-stool,  before  his 
household  divinity. 

"  Thompson,"  said  I,  "  I  always  knew  you  were  one 
of  the  luckiest  fellows  in  the  whole  world ;  but  may 
I  ask— just  as  a  point  of  scientific  inquiry — whether 
that  office  is  always  performed  for  you, 

*  One  fair  spirit  for  your  minister  ?' 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  ITo  indeed,  '  pon  my  word ! 
only  when  I  go  to  a  dinner,  as  to-day — or  to  church, 
or — I  say,  Will,  you  unmitigated  rogue,  how  dare 
you  !  you'll  spoil  my  cravat — dont  you  see  mamma 
is  just  tying  it !" 

The  little  fellow  thus  objurgated,  his  eyes  scintil- 
lating with  mirth,  now  fairly  astride  of  his  father's 
shoulders,  clung  tenaciously  to  his  prize,  and  peti- 
tioned for  a  ride  in  his  familiar  seat. 

Besorting  to  stratagem,  where  force  would  ill 
apply,  the  father,  rising  with  a  "thank  you,  dear 
witie,"  retired  backward  towards  a  wide  bed,  and, 
by  a  dextrous  movement,  suddenly  landed  his 
youthful  captor  in  a  heap  in  the  middle. 

To  lose  no  time,  the  brave  boy,  "  conquered,  but 
not  subdued,"  made  the  best  use  of  his  lungs,  while 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  121 

reducing  his  arms  and  legs  to  order,  and  Bessie, 
opening  her  beaming  eyes,  at  this  outcry,  stretched 
out  her  arms  to  aid  lier  pathetic  appeal  to  papa  to 
"  p'ay  one  little  hos  "  with  her,  "  only  hut  one  /" 

Evidently  fearful  of  being  out-generalled,  the  inva- 
der beat  a  rapid  retreat  from  the  enemy's  camp,  with 
the  words  "  thank  you,  love,  I  believe  the  little  ras- 
cal didn't  tumble  it,  though  I  came  within  an 
ace,  like  a  real  aldei-man,  of  dying  of  a  dinner — 
before  it  was  eaten !" 

After  this  initiatory  visit  to  the  nui'sery  of  my  fair 
friend,  Mrs.  Thompson,  I  was  allowed  to  come  and 
go  at  my  own  pleasure,  during  the  remainder  of  my 
visit  beneath  her  hospitable  roof,  and  I  found  myself 
60  interested  and  amused  by  what  I  witnessed  there, 
sis  often  to  leave  the  solitude  of  my  own  apartment, 
though  surrounded  there  by  every  possible  "  aid  and 
appliance "  of  comfort  and  enjoyment  that  refine- 
ment and  courtesy  could  supply,  to  learn  the  most 
beautiful  lessons  of  practical  wisdom  and  goodness 
from  the  most  unpretending  of  teachers. 

One  morning  when  the  habitue  had  sought  his 
accustomed  post  of  observation,  a  young  lady  pre- 
sented herself  at  the  door,  and  seeing  me,  was  about 
to  retreat  with  something  about  its  being  very  early 
for  a  visit,  when  Mrs.  Thompson  recalled  her  with  a 
"  Come  in,  my  dear,  and  let  me  have  the  pleasure  of 
presenting  you  to  Colonel  Lunettes,  the  friend  of 
whom  you  have  heard  us  all  speak  so  often." 

After  the  usual  courtesies,  this  lovely  earth-angel, 


6 


122  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn'b   GUIDE 

with  some  liesitation,  and  drawing  her  chair  nearer 
her  friend,  explained  her  errand. 

Making  a  little  screen  of  a  cherub-head,  as  was 
my  wont,  I  regaled  myself  unobserved,  with  the 
music  of  sweet  voices  and  the  study  of  pretty  faces. 
I  caught — "  my  old  drawing-teacher  " — "  her  hus- 
band was  a  brute  in  their  best  days  " — "  this  long, 
hard  winter  " —  "  not  even  a  carpet " — "  the  poor 
child  on  a  wooden-bottomed  chair,  with  a  little  dirty 
pillow  behind  her  head,  and  so  emaciated !" — ^here 
there  was  a  very  perceptible  quiver  in  the  low 
tones,  followed  by  a  little  choking  sort  of  pause. 

"  I  am  really  grateful  to  you  for  coming — ^I  have 
been  unusually  occupied  lately  by  the  baby's  illness 
and  other  duties — the  weather  has  given  me  more 
than  one  twinge  of  conscience  " — this  accompanied 
by  a  quiet  transfer  from  one  purse  to  another,  and 
then  I  heard,  as  the  two  ladies  bent  over  the  crib  of 
the  sleeping  infant — "  is  there  a  stout  boy  among 
the  children  ?  There  are  the  barrels  of  pork  and 
beef,  always  ready  in  the  cellar — -each  good  and 
wholesome  of  their  kind — husband  always  has  them 
brought  from  the  farm  on  purpose  to  give  away ;  and 
we  have  abundance  of  fine  potatoes — John  could 
not  readily  find  the  place,  and  really,  just  now,  he 
is  pretty  busy;  still,  perhaps,  they  have  the  natural 
pride  of  better  days — ^if  you  think  it  well,  I  will  try 
to  send" — the  gentle  ministers  of  mercy  left  the 
room  together,  and  I  heard  no  more. 

Presently,  the  youth  of   whom  I  have    before 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  12lf 

epoken,  still  at  home  enjoying  his  holiday's  college 
vacation,  joined  me,  and,  between  the  exercises  of  an 
extertaining  gymnastic  exhibition,  in  which  he  and 
Willie  w^ere  the  chief  performers,  regaled  me  with 
humorous  sketches  of  college  adventures,  anecdotes 
of  the  professors,  etc.,  in  the  details  of  some  of  which 
I  think  he  had  his  quiet  old  nurse  in  his  mind's  eye, 
as  well  as  his  father's  guest. 

When  Mrs.  Thompson  resumed  her  accustomed 
Beat  at  her  business-table,  as  it  might  well  be  called, 
my  agreeable  young  entertainer  slid  away  from  the 
group  about  the  fire,  and  was  soon  snugged  down,  in 
his  own  lavorite  fashion,  with  his  legs  comfortably 
crossed  over  the  top  of  the  chair  sustaining  mammy's 
implements,  cheek-by-jowl  with  the  venerable  genius 
of  the  sewing-basket,  dipping  into  a  newspaper,  and 
chatting,  at  intervals,  with  his  humble  friend.  Once 
in  a  while  I  caught  a  sentence  like  this  : 

"  I  say,  mammy,  you  can't  begin  to  think  how  glad 
I  am  you  are  getting  down  to  my  shirts  !  Such  work 
as  they  make  washing  for  a  fellow  at  college  !  My 
black  washerwoman  (and  such  a  beauty  as  she  is— 
Buch  a  little  rosebud  of  a  mouth  !)  pretends  to  fasten 
the  loose  buttons — now,  there  is  a  specimen  of  her 
peiformances — just  look!  The  real  truth  is,  Mrs. 
Welch,  that  mother  and  you  are  the  only  women  I 
know  of  who  can  sew  on  a  button  worth  a  pin — just 
the  only  two,  by  George  !  Now,  there's  Pierre  de 
Carradeaux,  one  of  our  young  fellows  down  there — 
his  friends  all  live  in  Hayti,  or  some  other  unknown 
a-nd  uninhabitable  region,  you  know,  over  the  sea-*- 


124 


I  wisli  you  could  see  his  clothes !  The  way  they 
mend  at  the  tailors !  But  the  darns  in  his  stockings 
are  the  funniest.  He  rooms  with  me,  and  so  I  hear 
him  talldng  to  himself,  in  French.  I  am  afraid  he 
swears,  sometimes — but  the  way  he  fares  is  enough 
to  make  a  saint  swear !"  And  then  followed  a  de- 
tail that  caused  mammy  to  wipe  her  eyes  in  sympa- 
thy with  this  strange  phase  of  human  woe,  in  alter- 
nation with  an  occasional  exclamation  of  amusement 
— like,  "  You'll  surely  be  the  death  of  me,  Master 
'Sidney  !"  apparently  forced  spasmodically  from  her 
lips,  despite  the  self-imposed  taciturnity  which,  1 
shrewdly  suspected,  my  presence  created. 

"  Mother,  my  revered  maternal  primative,  may  I 
read  you  this  anecdote?  Colonel,  will  you  allow 
me  ?" — a  respectful  glance  at  the  book  in  my  hand. 
And  squeezing  himself  in  from  behind,  by  some 
utterly  inconceivable  india-rubber  pliancy,  between 
the  fire  and  his  much-enduring  parent,  the  tall  form 
of  the  stripling  slowly  subsided  until  I  could  discern 
nothing  but  a  mass  of  wavy  black  hair  reposing 
amid  the  soft  folds  of  his  mother's  morning-gown, 
and  a  bit  of  his  newspaper.  Thus  disposed,  appa- 
rently to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  all  concerned,  ho 
read : 

"  Once,  while  the  celebrated  John  Kemble,  the 
renowned  actor  and  acute  critic,  was  still  seated  at 
the  dinner-table  of  an  English  nobleman,  with  whom 
he  had  been  dining,  a  servant  announced  that  Mrs. 
Kemble  awaited  her  husband  in  a  carriage  at  the 
door     Some  time  elapsed,  and  the  impersonator  of 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  Ig5 

Shakspeare's  mighty  creations  remained  immovable. 
At  length  the  servant,  re-entering,  said  •  *  Mrs.  Kem- 
ble  bids  me  say,  sir,  that  she  is  afraid  of  getting  the 
rheumatiz.'^  '  Add  ism,^  replied  the  imperturbable 
critic  of  language,  and  quietly  continued  his  discourse 
with  his  host." 

"  If  I  should  ever  be  compelled  to  marry — which, 
of  course,  I  never  shall  unless  you  disinherit  me, 
mother,  or  mammy  insists  upon  leaving  us  to  keep 
house  for  that  handsome  widower,  in  the  long  snuff 
overcoat — [though  the  respectable  female  thus^ 
alluded  to  did  not  even  glance  up  from  her  stitching, 
I  plainly  marked  a  little  nod  of  virtuous  defiance, 
and  a  fluttering  in  the  crimpings  of  the  ample  cap- 
border,  that  plainly  expressed  desperation  to  the 
hopes  of  the  widower  aforesaid]  — but  if  fate  should 
decree  my  'attaining  knowledge  under  difficulties,' 
upon  this  subject,  I  hope  I'll  be  a  little  too  decent  to 
keep  my  wife  sitting  out  doors  in  a  London  fog  (I 
shall  make  a  bridal  tour  to  Europe,  of  course),  while 
I  am  imbibing,  even  with  a  '  nobleman.'  Speaking 
of  the  tyranny  of  fate,  I  am,  most  reluctantly,  com- 
pelled to  deprive  you  of  my  refreshing  conversation, 
my  dear  and  excellent  mother.  If  my  dilapidated 
linen  is  restored  to  its  virgin  integrity:  in  other 
words,  if  my  shirt  is  done,  I  propose  retiring  to  the 
deepest  shades  of  private  life,  and  getting  myself  up, 
without  the  slightest  consideration  for  the  financial 
affairs  of  my  honored  masculine  progenitor,  for  a 
morning  call  upon ,  the  fortunate  youthfu) 


126 


beauty  I,  at  present,  honor  with  my  particular  ado- 
ration." So  saying,  Sir  Hopeful  slowly  emerged 
from  his  '  loop-hole  of  retreat,'  and  making  a  pro- 
found obeisance  to  his  guardian  spirit,  and  another 
to  me,  a  shade  less  lowly,  he  took  himself  off,  with 
his  linen  over  his  arm,  and  a  grand  parting  flourish  at 
the  door,  with  his  hat  upon  his  walking-stick,  for  the 
especial  benefit  of  his  little  brother,  which  elicited 
a  shout  of  unmingled  admiration  from  the  juvenile 
spectators  that  need  not  have  been  despised  by  Herr 
Alexander  himself. 

During  dinner  that  day,  as  the  varied  and  most 
bountiful  course  of  pastry,  etc.,  was  about  to  be 
removed,  young  Sidney  said : 

"  Mother,  allow  me  to  relieve  you  of  the  largest 
half  of  that  solitary-looking  piece  of  mince-pie.  I 
am  sorry  I  cannot  afford  to  take  the  whole  of  it 
under  my  protecting  care." 

"My  dear  son,"  replied  my  hostess,  pleasantly, 
"let  me  suggest  the  attractions  of  variety.  You 
have  already  done  your  devoir  to  this  pie.  Your 
father  pronounces  the  cocoanut  excellent" — and 
then,  as  if  in  reply  to  the  look  of  surprise  that  met 
her  good-humored  sally,  she  added,  in  a  tone  meant 
only  for  the  ears  of  the  youth,  "  this  happens  to  be 
the  last,  and  mammy  eats  no  other,  you  remember." 

"  [fro  great  matter,  either  ;  to-morrow  will  be  bak- 
ing-day. Now  I  know  why  you  took  none  yourself, 
mother,"  answered  Sidney,  cheerfully,  in  the  same 
''  aside"  manner ;  and  the  placid  smile  on  the  hospi- 


ro  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  127 

table  face  of  tlie  '  liome-mother '  alone  acknow- 
ledged her  recognition  of  the  ascription  of  self-denial 
to  her;  for  it  is  not  occasionally,  but  always,  that 

"  In  the  clear  heaven  of  her  delightful  eye, 
An  angel  guard  of  loves  and  graces  lie." 

Adieu  I 

UiTOLE  Hal. 


128 


LETTEK  V. 

MAira^EE — PRACTICAL   DIRECTIONS. 

Mt  dear  Nephews: 

Though  good  breeding  is  always  and 
everywhere  essentially  the  same,  there  are  phases  of 
daily  life,  especially  demanding  its  exhibition. 
Manner  in  the  street  is  one  of  these. 

Even  in  hours  most  exclusively  devoted  to  busi- 
ness, do  not  allow  yourself  to  hurry  along  with  a 
clouded,  absent  face  and  bent  head,  as  if  you  forever 
felt  the  foot  of  the  earth-god  on  your  neck !  Carry 
an  erect  and  open  brow  into  the  very  midst  of  the 
heat  and  burden  of  the  day.  Take  time  to  see  your 
friends,  as  they  cross  you  in  the  busy  thoroughfares 
of  life  and.  at  least  by  a  passing  smile  or  a  gesture 
of  recognition,  give  token  that  you  are  not  resolved 
into  a  mere  money-making  machine,  and  both  will 
be  better  for  this  fleeting  manifestation  of  the  inner 
being. 

During  business  hours  and  in  crowded  business- 
streets  no  man  should  ever  stop  another,  whom  he 
knows  to  be  necessarily  constantly  occupied  at  such 
times,  except  upon  a  matter  of  urgent  need,  and  then 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  12^ 

if  he  alone  is  to  be  benefited  by  the  detention,  he 
should  briefly  apologize  and  state  his  errand  in  as 
few  words  as  possible. 

But  the  habit  of  a  cheerful  tone  of  voice,  a  cor- 
dial smile,  and  friendly  grasp  of  the  hand,  when 
meeting  those  with  whom  one  is  associated  in  social 
life,  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  unimportant. 

If  you  do  not  intend  to  stop,  when  meeting  a  gen- 
tleman friend,  recognize  him  as  you  approach,  by 
a  smile,  and  touching  your  hat  salute  him  audibly 
with — "Good  morning,  sir,"  or  "I  hope  you  are  well, 
sir,"  or  (more  familiarly),  "  Ah,  Charley ! — good 
morning  to  you."  But  don't  say,  "  How  d'  ye  do, 
sir,"  when  you  cannot  expect  to  learn,  nor  call  back 
as  you  pass,  something  that  will  cause  him  to  linger^ 
uncertain  what  you  say. 

If  you  wish  to  stop  a  moment,  especially  in  a 
thoroupjhfare,  retain  the  hand  you  take,  while  you  re- 
tire a  little  out  of  the  human  current ;  and  never  fall 
into  the  absurdity  of  attempting  to  draw  a  tight  or 
moistened  glove  while  another  waits  the  slow  process 
It  is  better  to  offer  the  gloved  hand  as  a  rule,  without 
apology,  in  the  street. 

If  you  are  compelled  to  detain  a  friend,  when  he 
is  walking  with  a  stranger,  briefly  but  politely 
apologize  to  the  stranger,  and  keep  no  one  "  in  dur- 
ance vile  "  longer  than  absolute  necessity  requires. 
When  thus  circumstanced  yourself,  respond  cheer- 
fully and  courteously  to  the  apologetic  phrase  offered, 
and,  drawing  a  little  aside,  occupy  yourself  with  any- 
thing beside  the  private  conversation  that  interrupts 

6* 


130  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

your  walk.  Sometimes  circumstances  render  it 
decorous  to  pass  on  with  some  courteous  phrase,  to 
step  into  some  neighboring  bookseller's,  etc.,  or  to 
make  a  rapid  appointment  for  a  re-union.  Cultivate 
the  quick  discernment,  the  ready  tact,  that  will  en- 
gender ease  of  manner  under  those  and  similar  cir- 
cumstances requiring  prompt  action. 

I^ever  leave  a  friend  suddenly  in  the  street,  either 
to  join  another,  or  for  any  other  reason,  without  an 
apology  ;  the  briefest  phrase,  expressed  in  a  cordial 
tone^  will  suffice,  in  an  emergency. 

Upon  passing  servants,  or  other  inferiors  in  station, 
whom  you  wish  to  recognize,  in  the  street,  it  is  a  good 
practice,  without  bowing  or  touching  the  hat,  to  salute 
them  in  a  kindly  voice. 

When  you  meet  a  gentleman  whom  you  know, 
walking  with  one  or  more  ladies,  with  whom  you  are 
not  acquainted,  bow  with  grave  respect  to  them  also. 

Politeness  requires  that  upon  meeting  ladies  and 
gentlemen  together,  with  both  of  whom  one  is  ac- 
quainted, that  one  should  lift  the  hat  as  he  approaches 
them,  and  bowing  first  to  the  ladies,  include  the  gen- 
tleman in  a  sweeping  motion,  or  a  succeeding  bow, 
as  the  case  permits.  Should  you  stop,  speak  first  to 
the  lady,  but  do  not  offer  to  shake  hands  with  a 
lady  in  full  morning  costume,  should  your  glove 
be  dark-colored  or  your  hand  uncovered.  Again  lift 
your  hat  to  each,  in  succession  of  age  or  rank,  as  a 
substitute  for  this  dubious  civility,  with  some  play- 
ful expression,  as  "  I  am  sorry  my  glove  is  not  quite 
fresh,  Mrs. ,  but  you  need  no  assurance  of  my 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FA8HI0N.  131 

being  always  the  most  devoted  of  your  friends  "  or 
"  admirers,"  or  "  Keally,  Miss  ■ ,  you  are  so  beau- 
tifully dressed,  and  looking  so  cliarmingly,  that  I 
dare  not  venture  too  near !"  And  as  you  part,  again 
take  your  hat  quite  off,  letting  the  party  pass  you^ 
and  on  the  wall  side  of  the  street,  if  that  be  practic- 
able. 

In  the  street  with  other  men,  carefully  give  that 
precedence  to  superior  age  or  station  which  is  so 
becoming  in  the  young,  by  taking  the  outer  side  of 
the  pavement,  or  that  nearer  the  counter  current, 
as  circumstances  may  make  most  polite.  When  you 
give,  or  have  an  arm,  carefully  avoid  all  erratic  move- 
ments, and  Jceep  step^  like  a  well-trained  soldier ! 

Towards  ladies^  in  the  streets,  the  most  punctilious 
observance  of  politeness  is  due.  Walking  with  them, 
one  should,  of  course,  assume  the  relative  position 
best  adapted  to  protect  them  from  inconvenience  or 
danger,  and  carefully  note  and  relieve  them  from  the 
approach  of  either.  In  attending  them  into  a  store, 
&c.,  always  give  them  precedence,  holding  the  door 
open  from  without,  if  practicable.  If  compelled  to 
pass  before  them,  to  attend  to  this  courtesy,  say, 
"  allow  me,"  or  "  with  your  permission,"  etc.  Meet 
ing  ladies,  the  hat  should  })e  taken  off  as  you  bow, 
and  replaced  w^hen  you  have  passed,  or,  if  you 
pause  to  address  them,  politely  raised  again  as  you 
quit  them. 

When  you  are  stopped  by  a  lady  friend  in  the 
street,  at  once  place  yourself  so  as  best  to  shield 
her  from  the  throng,  if  you  are  in  a  crowd,  or  fronj 


132  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN  8   GDIDB 

passing  vehicles,  etc.,  and  never  by  your  manner  in- 
dicate either  surprise  or  embarrassment  upon  such  an 
occasion.  Allow  Ker  to  terminate  the  inteiview, 
and  raise  your  hat  quite  off  as  you  take  leave  oi  her. 

When  a  stranger  lady  addresses  an  inquiry  to  you 
in  the  street,  or  when  you  restore  something  she 
has  inadvertently  dropped,  touch  your  hat  ceremo- 
niously, and  with  some  phrase  or  accent  of  respect, 
add  grace  to  a  civility. 

If  you  have  occasion  to  speak  more  than  a  word 
or  two  to  a  lady  whom  you  may  meet  in  walking, 
turn  and  acccompany  her  while  you  say  what  you 
wish,  and,  taking  off  your  hat,  when  you  withdraw, 
express  your  regret  at  losing  the  further  enjoyment 
of  her  society,  or  the  like. 

If  you  wish  to  join  a  lady  whom  you  see  before  you, 
be  careful  in  hurrying  forward  not  to  incommode  her 
(or  others,  indeed),  and  do  not  speak  so  huniedly, 
or  loudly,  as  to  startle  her,  or  arrest  attention,  and 
should  you  have  only  a  slight  acquaintance  with  her, 
say,  as  you  assume  a  position  at  her  side,  "  With 
your  permission,  madam,  I  will  attend  you,"  or 
"  Give  me  leave  to  join  your  walk,  Miss "  etc. 

Of  course,  no  well-bred  man  ever  risks  the  possi- 
bility of  intrusion  in.,  this  way,  or  ever  speaks  first 
to  a  lady  to  whom  he  has  only  had  a  passing  intro- 
duction. In  the  latter  case,  you  look  at  a  lady  as 
you  advance  towards  her,  and  await  her  recognition. 

Speaking  of  an  intrusion,  you  should  be  well  as- 
sured that  you  will  not  make  an  awkward  third  hQ* 
fore  you  venture  to  attach  vourself  to  a  lady  and 


TO   POLITENESS    AND   FASHION.  133 

gentleman  walking  together,  though  you  may  even 
know  them  very  well ;  and  the  same  rule  holds  good 
in  a  picture-gallery,  rococo-shop,  or  elsewhere,  when 
two  persons,  or  a  party,  sit  or  walk  together. 

Every  man  is  bound  by  the  laws  of  courtesy,  to  note 
any  street  accident  that  imperils  ladies,  and  at  once 
to  hasten  to  render  such  service  as  the  occasion  re- 
quires. Promptitude  and  self-possession  may  do  good 
service  to  humanity  and  the  fiiir,  at  such  a  juncture. 

Should  you  observe  ladies  whom  you  know,  unat- 
tended by  a  gentleman,  alighting  from  or  entering  a 
carriage,  especially  if  there  is  no  footman,  and  the 
driver  maintains  his  seat,  at  once  advance,  hold  the 
door  open,  and  offer  your  hand,  or  protect  a  dress 
from  the  wheel,  or  the  like,  and  bowing, pass  on,  all 
needed  service  rendered  ;  or,  if  more  familiarity  and 
your  own  wish  sanction  it,  accompany  them  where 
they  may  chance  to  be  entering. 

'No  general  rule  can  be  laid  down  respecting  offer- 
ing the  arm  to  ladies  in  the  street.  Where  persons 
are  known  and  reside  habitually,  local  custom  will 
usually  be  the  best  guide.  At  night,  the  arm  should 
always  be  tendered,  and  so  in  ascending  the  multi- 
plied steps  of  a  public  building,  etc.,  for  equally 
obvious  reasons.  For  similar  cause,  you  go  before 
ladies  into  church,  into  a  crowded  concert-room,  etc., 
wherever,  in  short,  they  are  best  aided  in  securing 
seats,  and  escaping  jostling,  by  this  precedence  of 
them.  When  attending  a  stranger  lady,  in  visiting  the 
noted  places  of  your  own  city,  or  the  like,  and  when 
one  of  a  party  for  a  long  walk,  or  of  travellers,  it  may 


134 


often  be  an  imperative  civility  to  proffer  the  ana, 
To  relatives,  or  elderly  ladies,  this  is  always  a  proper 
courtesy,  as  it  is  to  every  woman,  when  you  can  thus 
most  effectually  secure  her  safety  or  her  comfort. 

Do  not  forget,  when  walking  with  elderly  people, 
or  ladies,  to  moderate  the  headlong  speed  of  your 
usual  step. 

I  will  here  enter  my  most  emphatic  protest  against 
a  practice  of  which  ladies  so  justly  complain, — 
the  too-frequent  rudeness  of  men  in  stationing  them- 
selves at  the  entrance  of  churches,  concert-rooms, 
opera  houses,  etc.,  for  the  express  purpose,  appa- 
rently, of  staring  every  modest  woman  who  may 
chance  to  enter,  out  of  countenance.  'No  one  pos- 
sessed of  true  good-breeding  will  indulge  in  a 
practice  so  at  variance  with  propriety.  If  occasion 
demands  your  thus  remaining  stationary  upon  the 
steps  or  in  the  portico  of  a  public  edifice,  make 
room,  at  once,  for  ladies  who  may  be  enteiing,  and 
avoid  any  appearance  of  curiosity  regarding  them. 
A  similar  course  is  suitable  when  occupying  a  place 
upon  the  steps,  or  at  the  windows  of  a  pump-room 
at  a  watering-place,  or  of  a  hotel.  Carefully  avoid 
all  semblance  of  staring  at  ladies  passing  in  the 
street,  alighting  from  a  carriage,  etc.,  and  make  no 
comment,  even  of  a  complimentary  nature,  in  a  voice 
that  can  possibly  reach  their  ears.  So,  when  walk- 
ing in  the  street,  if  beauty  or  grace  attract  your 
attention,  let  your  regard  be  respectful,  and,  even 
then,  not  too  fixed.  An  audible  comment  or  excla* 
mation,  addressed  to  a  companion,  a  laugh,  a  fami- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  135 

liar  stare,  are  each  and  all,  when  any  stranger,  and 
more  especially  a  woman^  is  the  subject  of  them, 
unhandsome  in  the  extreme. 


Breakfasting  one  morning,  at  West  Point,  with  au 
agreeable  Portuguese,  we  chatted  for  some  time  over 
the  newspapers  and  our  coffee,  as  we  sat  within  view 
of  one  of  the  most  beautiful  landscapes  it  has  ever 
been  my  fortune  to  behold.  At  length  our  un- 
American  indulgence  in  this  respect,  became  the 
theme  of  conversation  between  us. 

"JPardon  me,"  said  the  elegant  foreigner,  "but 
though  the  Americans  are  very  kind — a  very 
pleasant  people,  they  do  not  take  enough  of  time  for 
these  things,  at  all.  Tliey  do  not  only  eat  in  a 
hurry,  but  they  even  fass  their  friends  in  the  street, 
sometimes,  without  sjpedking  to  them  !  I  remember 
last  winter,  in  Pliiladelphia,  where  I  was  some 
months,  I  met  one  day,  in  Chestnut  street,  a  gentle- 
man whom  I  knew  very  well,  and  he  passed  me 
without  speaking.  I  made  up  my  mind  at  once, 
that  this  shall  not  happen  again,  so  the  next  time 
I  saw  him  coming,  I  looked  into  a  shop  window, 
or  at  something,  and  did  not  see  him.      He  came  to 

me  and  said — ''Good    morning,  Mr.  A !  what 

is  the  matter  with  you,  that  you  do  not  speak  to 
me  ?"  or  something  like  that.  I  answered,  that  he 
had  cui  me  in  the  street  (I  think  that  is  what  you 
call  it !)  two  or  three  days  before,  and  that  I  never 
will  permit  myself  to  be  treated  in  this  manner. 


136  THE   AMERICAN  GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

Then  he  said,  that  I  must  excuse  him,  that  he  must 
have  been  in  business  and  did  not  see  me,  and  so 
on.  But  this  is  not  the  way  of  a  gentleman  in  my 
country  !" 

You  must  imagine  for  yourselves  the  double  effect, 
lent  to  the  words  of  my  companion  by  his  foreign 
action  and  imperfect  pronunciation,  and  the  slight 
curl  of  his  dark  moustache  as  he  emphasized  tho 
words  I  have  underscored. 


"What  a  harum-scarum  fellow  that  James  Con- 
don is  !*'  exclaimed  a  young  lady,  in  my  hearing. 
'*  I  had  reason  to  repent  declining  to  drive  to  the 
concert  last  night,  I  assure  you  !  The  moon,  upon 
which  I  had  counted,  was  obscured,  and  he  not  only 
hurried  me  along  (though  we  had  plenty  of  time, 
as  I  was  quite  ready  when  he  came),  at  breathless 
speed,  but  actually  dragged  me  over  a  heap  of 
rubbish,  in  crossing  the  street,  upon  which  I  nearly 
tumbled  down,  though  I  had  his  arm.  "When  we 
reached  the  place,  I  was  so  heated  and  flurried  that 
I  could  not  half  enjoy  the  music,  and  this  morning 
I  hnd  not  only  that  m}^  handsome  new  boots  are 
completely  spoiled,  but  that  I  have  any  quantity  of 
lime  upon  the  bottom  of  the  dress  I  wore,  and  my 
pretty  fan,  which  he  must  needs  insist  upon  carry- 
ing  for  me,  sadly  broken  !" 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  137 


"  1  have  seen  everytliing  and  everybody  I  wish, 
in  London,  except  the  Duke  of  Wellington,"  said 
a  sprightly  kidy  whose  early  morning  walk  past 
Apsley  House — the  town  residence  of  the  Iron 
Duke — I  was  attending  some  years  since,  "  every 
distinguished  man,  except  the  Hero  of  "Waterloo. 
I  liope  I  shall  not  lose  that  pleasure !" 

"You  may  have  that  pleasure  now,  madam!" 
exclaimed  a  gentleman,  passing  us  and  rapidly  walk- 
ing forward,  in  whose  erect  figure  and  very  narrow 
brimmed  hat,  I  at  once  recognized  the  object  of  my 
companion's  hitherto  unsatisfied  curiosity. 

Strolling  in  Kensington  Park,  during  that  same 
morning,  and  at  an  hour  too  unfashionably  early  for 
a  crowd,  with  my  fair  charge,  I  drew  her  gently  aside, 
as  she  leaned  on  my  arm,  from  some  slight  obstruction 
in  our  path,  which  she  did  not  observe,  and  which 
might  otherwise  have  incommoded  her. 

"  Eeally  Colonel  Lunettes,"  said  she, "  your  watch- 
ful politeness  reminds  me  of  my  dear  father's.  You 
gentlemen  oi  the  old  school  so  much  surpass  modern 
beaux  in  courtesy !  I  well  remember  the  last  walk 
I  had  in   Broadway  with  papa,   before  we  sailed. 

Mrs.  W and    I  were  making  a  morning  visit, 

quite  up  town  for  us  Brooklynites — ^in  Union  Place, 
upon  a  bride,  when  who  should  also  arrive  but  papa. 
When  we  took  leave,  he  accompanied  us,  and  finding 
thaf  we  had  taken  a  fancy  to  walk  all  the  way  to  the 
ferry,  insisted  u[)on  going  with  us — only  think, 
at  his  age,  and  so  luxurious  in  his  habits,  too!     -As 


138  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN*S   GUIDE 

he  is  a  little  hard  of  hearing,  and  likes  always  to 

talk  with  Mrs.  W ,  who  is  a  great  favorite  of 

his,  I  insisted  upon  his  walking  between  us — that  I 
might  have  his  arm,  and  yet  not  interfere  with  his  con- 
versation. This,  of  course,  brought  me  on  the  outside. 
But  I  cannot  describe  to  you  the  watchful  care  he 
had  for  me,  all  the  way.  At  the  slightest  crowding 
he  held  me  so  firmly — saw  every  swerve  of  the 
vehicles  towards  us,  and  would  hold  my  dress  away 
from  every  rough  box  or  so,  that  lumbered  the 
sidewalk,  and  every  now  and  then  he  would  say — 
'  Minnie,  wouldn't  you  be  more  comfortable  on  my 
other  arm  ?  I  am  afraid  you  will  be  hurt  there !'  At 
the  Brooklyn  ferry  he  was  to  leave  us,  as  he  could 
not  go  over  to  dine  that  day.  Seeing  a  crowd  at 
the  door  of  the  office,  he  hastened  a  little  before  us 
to  pay  the  fare,  and  then  saw  us  safely  through  the 
press,   taking  leave   of  me   as   politely  as  of  Mrs. 

W .     '  What  an  elegant  gentleman  your  father 

is !'  cried  out  Mrs.  W ,  as  soon  as  he  was  gone, 

'  he  always  reminds  me  of  the  descriptions  we  read 
of  the  chivalrous  courtesy  of  knights  of  olden  time ; 
it  is  like  listening  to  a  heroic  ballad  to  be  with 
him,  and  receive  his  politeness.*  I  know  you  won't 
laugh  at  me.  Colonel,  when  I  say  that  the  memory 
of  that  simple  incident  is  still  as  fresh  in  my  heart, 
as  though  no  ocean  voyage  and  long  travel  had 
come  between;  and  I  can  truly  say  that  I  was 
prouder  of  my  cavalier  attendant  that  day,  thjtn  1 
ever  was  of  all  the  young  men  together,  who  ever 
walked  Broadway,  with  me."   The  tremulous  tones, 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  139 

the  glistening  eyes,  and  the  glowing  cheeks  of  the 
the  fair  young  speaker  attested  the  truth  of  her 
filial  boast,  and  I — but  you  must  draw  your  own 
morals!" 

Presently  we  resumed  our  chat,  and  the  theme  of 
the  moment  together. 

'^I  well  recollect,"  said  my  companion,  in  the 
course  of  our  discussion,  "  the  impression  produced 
upon  me,  in  my  girlhood,  by  the  manners  of  a  young 
gentleman,  who  was  my  groomsman  at  the  wedding 
of  a  young  friend.  Some  of  the  lessons  of  good 
breeding  taught  me  by  his  example,  I  shall  never 
forget,  I  think.  I  was  the  most  bashful  creature  in 
the  world  at  that  time,  and  he  quite  won  my  heart 
by  the  politeness  with  which  he  set  me  at  ease,  at 
once,  when  he  came  to  take  me  away  in  a  carriage 
to  join  my  young  friends.  But  that  was  not  the 
point :  the  next  morning  after  the  wedding,  we  were 
all  to  attend  the  'happy  pair'  as  far  as  Saratoga,  on 
their  wedding-tour;  that  is,  the  bridesmaids  and 
bridesmen.  At  Schenectady,  we  were  put  into  an 
old-fashioned  car,  divided  into  compartments.  Just 
as  we  were  about  to  start,  a  singularly  tall,  gaunt, 
Yankeefied-looking  elderly  w^oman  scrambled  into 
our  little  box  of  a  place,  and  seated  herself.  "We 
were  fairly  ofi",  before  she  seemed  fully  to  realize  the 
trials  of  her  new  position.  She  did  not  say,  in  the 
language  of  the  popular  song, 

*  I  think  there  must  be  danger 
'Mong  so  many  sparks  I' 


140  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN 's   GUIDE 

but  she  looked  as  though  she  feared  having  fallen 
among  the  Philistines ;  and,  I  am  ashamed  to  say 
that  some  of  our  merry  party  made  no  scruple  of  pri- 
vately amusing  themselves  with  her  peculiarities  of 
dress  and  manner.  Mr.  Henry,  however  (my  grooms 
man),  addressed  some  polite  remarks  to  her,  in  so  grave 
and  respectful  a  manner  as  soon  to  convince  her  of  his 
sincerity,  and  as  carefully  watched  the  sparks  that 
fell  upon  her  thick  worsted  gown,  as  those  that  an- 
noyed the  rest  of  us.  At  the  fii*st  stopping-place,  you 
may  be  very  sure  that  the  unwilling  intruder  was  in 
haste  to  change  her  seat. 

"  'Do  you  wish  to  get  out,  madam  !'  inquired  Mr, 
Henry ;  '  allow  me  to  help  you  ;'  and  bounding  out, 
he  assisted  her  down  the  high  step,  as  carefully  and 
respectfully  as  though  she  were  some  high  dame  of 
rank  and  fashion.  I  am  afraid  that,  though  I  did 
not  actually  join  in  the  merriment  of  my  thoughtless 
friends,  I  deserved  the  sting  of  conscience  that  served 
to  fasten  this  little  incident  so  firmly  in  my  remem- 
brance. Perhaps  I  was,  for  this  reason,  the  more 
impressed  by  another  proof  of  the  ever-ready  polite- 
ness of  this  gentleman,  who  made  such  an  impression 
upon  my  girlish  fancy.  We  dined  at  Ballston,  on 
our  way  to  Saratoga,  and  after  dinner,  I  asked  Mr. 
Henry,  with  whom,  in  spite  of  my  first  awe  of  his 
superiority  of  years  and  polish,  I  began  to  feel  quite 
at  ease,  to  run  down  with  me  to  one  of  the  Springs, 
for  a  glass  of  w^ater,  before  we  should  resume  our 
journey.  So  he  good-naturedly  left  the  gentlemen 
(now  I  know  that  he  may  have  wished  to  smoke) 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  141 

together  at  the  table,  and  accompanied  me.  But 
now  for  my  denoument.  Just  as  we  were  in  a  nar- 
row place,  between  a  high,  steep  bank  and  the  track, 
the  cars  came  rushing  towards  us.  In  an  instant, 
quicker  than  thought,  Mr.  Henry  had  transferred  me 
from  the  arm  next  the  cars — because  more  removed 
from  the  edge  of  the  bank — to  the  other  arm,  thus 
placing  his  person  between  me  and  any  passing  dan- 
ger, and  with  such  a  quiet,  re-assuring  manner !  You 
smile.  Colonel — but,  really — well,  you  see  what  an 
impression  it  made  upon  my  youthful  sensibilities  1" 


"  Oh,  girls,  such  a  charming  adventure  as  I  had 
•this  evening!"  exclaimed  Margaret,  as  a  bevy  of  fair 
young  creatures  clustered  together  before  the  fire  in 
a  drawing-room  where  I  was  seated  after  dinner,  with 
my  newspaper.  My  attention  was  arrested  by  the 
peculiar  animation  with  which  these  words  were  pro- 
nounced, and  I  glanced  at  the  group,  over  the  top  of 
my  spectacles.  They  reminded  me  of  so  many  bril- 
liant-hued  butterflies,  in  their  bright-colored  winter 
dresses,  and  with  their  light,  wavy  motions  as  they 
settled  themselves,  one  on  a  pile  of  cushions,  others 
on  a  low  ottoman,  and  two  pretty  fairies  on  the 
hearth-rug,  each  uttering  some  exclamation  of  grati- 
fication  at  the  prospect  of  amusement. 

"  Now,  don't  expect  anything  extraordinary  or 
dreadful,  you  silly  creatures ;  I  have  no  'hair-breadth 
'scapes  by  land  or  sea '  to  entertain  you  with.    Can't 


142 


one  have  a  ^  charming  adventure,'  and  yet  have  no- 
thing to  tell  ?" 

"  But  do  tell  us  all  there  is  to  tell,  dear  Miss . 

Do,  please,  this  very  momentj."  entreated  one  of  the 
fairies,  linking  her  arms  around  her  companion,  and 
mingling  her  golden  ringlets  with  the  darker  locks  of 
the  head  upon  which  her  own  lovingly  rested.  And 
a  little  concert  of  similar  pleadings  followed.  This 
prelude  over,  the  tantalizing  adventuress  began : 

"  Before  I  went  over  to  'New  York  this  morning, 
I  wrote  a  little  note  to  Mary  Bostwick,  telling  her  all 
about  our  arrangements  for  the  Christmas-tree,  and 
charging  her  not  to  fail  to  come  to  us  on  Christmas 
eve,  and  all  about  it,  for  fear  that,  as  I  had  so  much 
to  accomplish,  I  might  not  be  able  to  go  up  to 
Twenty-third  street,  and  return  home  in  time  to  meet 
you  all  here.  My  plan  was  to  keep  it  until  I  was 
decided,  and  then,  if  obliged  to  send  it,  to  put  it  in 
one  of  the  City  Express  letter-boxes.  Well,  by  the 
time  I  was  through  with  all  my  important  errands, 
it  was  time  for  me  to  turn  my  steps  homeward.  So, 
happening  last  at  Tiffany's,  to  get  the — I  mean,  I 
asked  at  Tiffany's  for  one  of  the  places  where  a  box 
is  kept  in  that  neighborhood,  and  was  told  that 
there  was  one  in  a  druggist's,  quite  near — just  above. 
Hurrying  along,  I  must  have  passed  the  place,  and 
stopped  somewhere  not  far  below  *  Taylor's,'  to  see 
exactly  where  I  was.  Time  was  flying,  and  it  was 
really  almost  growing  dark ;  so  I  ventured  to  inquire 
of  a  gentleman  who  was  passing,  though  an  entire 
stranger,  for  the  druggist's. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  143 

"  I  think  it  is  below,  near  the  Astor  House,"  said 
he,  with  such  an  appearance  of  interest  as  to  em- 
bolden me  to  mention  what  I  was  in  search  of. 

"  If  that  is  all,"  he  replied,  "  I  dare  say  there  is 
one  nearer.  Let  me  see,"  glancing  around,  "  I  think 
there  is  one  on  the  opposite  corner — I  will  see." 

"  I  have  no  right  to  give  you  that  trouble,  sir," 
said  I. 

"  Yes  you  have — it  is  what  every  man  owes  to 
your  sex." 

"You  are  very  good,  sir;  but  I  am  sure  I  can 
make  the  inquiry  for  myself." 

"  1^0,  it  is  a  tavern,  where  you  cannot  properly 
go  alone !     Remain  here,  and  I  will  ascertain  for 

you." 

Before  I  could  repeat  my  thanks,  the  gentleman 
was  half  across  the  street. 

Hoping  to  facilitate  matters,  I  followed  him  to 
the  opposite  pavement,  and  stood  where  he  would 
observe  me  upon  coming  out  of  the  door  I  h-ad  seen 
him  enter.  I  held  the  note  and  my  porte-monnaie 
ready  in  my  hand. 

"There  is  a  box  here,"  said  my  kind  friend, 
returning,  "  if  you  will  intrust  me  with  your  letter, 
I  will  deposit  it  for  you." 

"  You  are  very  good,  sir ;  I  would  like  to  pay  it," 
I  answered,  opening  my  porte-monnaie. 

He  took  the  letter  quickly,  and  prevented  my 
intended  offer  of  the  postage  so  decidedly,  that  I  did 
not  dare  insist.    But,  by  this  time,  I  really  could  not 


lU 


refrain  from  the  expression  of  more  than  an  ordinary 
acknowledgment : 

"  I  have  to  thank  jou,  sir,"  said  I,  "  not  only  for 
a  real  kindness  to  a  stranger,  but  for  a  pleasant 
memory,  which  I  shall  not  soon  lose.  Such  courtesy 
is  too  unusual  to  be  soon  forgotten  J  '  How  far  one 
little  candle  sometimes  throws  its  rays!' — many 
thanks  and  good  evening,  sir !" 

I  had  still  one  more  errand  in  Canal  street,  but  I 
stayed  on  the  "  unfashionable  side  "  of  the  street,  and 
went  up,  to  avoid  the  awkwardness  of  re-crossing 
with  the  gentleman,  and  the  possibility  of  imposing 
any  further  tax  upon  his  politeness — bless  him !  I 
wasn't  half  as  weary  after  I  met  him,  and  my  heart 
has  been  in  a  glow  ever  since ! 

"  Bravo !"  "  Bravissimo !"  echoed  round  the 
room,  in  various  weaves  of  silvery  sound. 

"  Is  that  all.  Miss  —^ — ?"  inquired  the  only  hoy  of 
the  party,  unless  you  except  the  approach  to  second 
childhood  ensconced  behind  the  newspaper,  and 
now  acting  the  amiable  part  of  reporter,  for  your 
benefit. 

"  All,  unless  I  add  that  I  occasionally  glanced  cau- 
tiously over,  to  catch  the  form  of  my  kind  friend,  as  I 
hurried  along,  that  I  might  not  again  cross  his  path ; 
but  I  did  not  '  calculate  '  successfully  after  all ;  for, 
as  I  ran  across  Broadway,  at  Canal  street  corner,  he 
was  a  little  nearer  than  I  had  expected.  I  bowed 
slightly,  and  hurried  on: — but  wasn't  it  beautiful? 
Such  chivalrous  sentiments  towards  women  :  ^  It  is 
what  we  all  owe  your  sex  /'     And  his  manner  was 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  145 

more  expressive  than  his  words — so  gentle  and  quiet! 
Ko  stage  effect"' — 

"  But  you  quoted  Shakespeare,"  insinuated  a 
pretty  piece  of  malice  on  the  ottoman. 

"  I  couldn't  lielp  it,  if  I  did !  I  was  surprised  out 
of  the  use  of  ordinary  language  by  an  extraordinary 
occasion.  If  you  are  going  to  ridicule  me,  I  shall 
be  sorry  I  told  you ;  for  it  is  one  of  the  pleasantest 
things  that  has  happened  to  me  in  a  great  while  I 
There  was  I,  in  my  inGognito-dress^  as  I  call  it,  weary 
and  pale,  nothing  about  me  to  attract  interest,  I  am 
sure !  I  wish  such  men  were  more  common  in  this 
world,  they  would  elevate  the  race  !" 

"  I  declare,  cousin  Maggie,  you  are  growing  enthu- 
siastic !  I  haven't  seen  such  beaming  eyes  and  such 
a  brilliant  color  for  a  long  time !  Was  this  most 
gallant  knight  of  yours  a  young  gentleman,  may 
I  ask?" 

The  lady  thus  questioned  seemed  to  reflect  a 
moment  before  she  replied : 

"  If  you  mean  to  inquire  whether  he  was  a  whis- 
kered, moustached  elegant^  not  a  bit  of  it!  I 
should  not  have  addressed  such  a  man  in  the  street. 
On  the  contrary,  he  was  " 

u  ]\farried,  I  am  afraid  I"  interrupted  pretty  mis- 
chief on  the  ottoman,  giggling  behind  her  next 
neighbor. 

"  I  dare  say  he  may  have  been,"  pursued  the  nar- 
rator, quietly.  "  No  very  young  man,  even  if  he  had 
wished  to  be  polite  to  a  stranger  neither  young  nor 
beautiful,  which  is  very  doubtful,  would  have  exhi- 

6 


146 


bited  tlie  graceful  self-possession  and  easy  politeness 
of  tliis  gentleman : — he  was,  probably,  going  to  his 
home  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city  after  a  business- 
day.  As  I  remember  his  dress,  though,  of  course, 
I  had  no  thought  about  it  at  the  time,  it  was  the 
simple,  unnoticeable  attire  of  an  American  gentleman 
when  engaged  in  business  occupations — everything 
about  him,  as  I  recall  his  presence,  was  in  keeping — 
unostentatious,  quiet,  appropriate !  I  shall  long 
preserve  his  portrait  in  my  picture-gallery  of  me- 
mory, and  I  am  proud  to  believe  that  he  is  my  own 
countryman !" 

"  Cousin  Maggie  always  says,"  remarked  one  of 
her  auditors,  "  that  Americans  are  the  most  truly 
polite  men  she  has  met " 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  enthusiast,  "  though  some- 
times wanting  in  mere  surface-polish — 

'Where'er  I  roam,  whatever  lands  I  see, 
My  heart,  untravelled,  fondly  turns  to  * 

my  own  dear,  honored  countrymen — more  truly  chi- 
valrous, more  truly  just  towards  our  sex,  than  the 
men  of  any  other  land  I  I  never  yet  appealed  to 
one  of  them  for  aid,  for  courtesy,  as  a  woman^  and 
as  a  woman  should^  in  vain.  And  I  never,  scarcely, 
am  so  placed  as  to  have  occasion  for  kindness — real 
kindness — without  receiving  it,  unasked.  The  other 
day,  for  instance,  caught  in  a  sudden  shower,  I  stood 
waiting  for  a  stage,  *  down  town,'  in  Broadway. 
There  was  such  a  jam  that  I  was  afraid  to  try  and 
get  into  one  that  stopped  quite  near  the  sidewalk. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASUION.  lit 

A  policeman,  at  that  moment,  asked  me  whether  1 
wished  to  get  in,  and,  holding  mj  arm,  stepped  over 
the  curb  with  me.  '  I  don't  know  what  the  ladies 
would  do  without  the  aid  of  your  corps,  sometimes, 
in  these  crowds,'  said  I. 

" '  If  the  ladies  will  accept  our  services,  we  are 
proud,  madam,'  answered  he. 

"  '  I  am  very  glad  to  do  so,'  returned  I ;  and  well 
I  might,  for,  at  that  instant,  as  I  was  on  the  point  of 
setting  my  foot  on  the  step  of  the  omnibus,  the  horse 
attached  to  a  cart  next  behind  suddenly  started  for- 
ward, and  left  no  space  between  his  head  and  the 
door  of  the  stage.  I  shrunk  back,  as  you  may  ima- 
gine, and  said  I  would  walk,  in  spite  of  the  rain. 
But  the  policeman  encouraged  me,  and  called  out  to 
the  carman  to  fall  back.  At  that  instant,  I  observed 
a  gentleman  come  out  upon  the  step  of  the  stage. 
With  a  single  imperious  gesture,  and  the  sternest 
face,  he  drove  back  the  horse,  and  springing  into 
the  omnibus,  held  the  door  open  with  one  hand,  and 
extended  the  other  to  me.  To  be  sure,  the  police- 
man almost  pinched  my  arm  in  two,  in  his  effort  to 
keep  me  safe,  but  I  was,  at  last,  seated  with  whole* 
bones  and  a  grateful  heart,  at  the  side  of  my  brave, 
kind  champion.  As  soon  as  I  recovered  breath,  I 
was  curious  to  see  again  the  face  whose  expression 
had  arrested  my  attention  (of  course,  I  did  not  wait 
for  breath  to  thanh  him),  and  to  note  the  external 
characteristics  of  a  man  who  would  impulsively  ren- 
der such  service  to  a  woman — ^like  Charles  Lamb — 
(dear,  gentle  Charles  Lamb !)  holding  his  umbrella 


1*1 

over  the  head  of  a  washerwoman,  because  she  was  a 
woman!  Well,  my  friend  was  looking  straight  be* 
fore  him,  apparently  wholly  unconscious  of  the  exist- 
ence of  the  trembling  being  he  had  so  humanely 
befriended,  with  the  most  impenetrable  face  imagin- 
able, and  a  sort  of  abstracted  manner.  Presently  I 
desired  to  open  the  window  behind  me — still  not 
quite  recovered  from  my  fright  and  flutter.  Almost 
before  my  hand  was  on  the  glass,  my  courteous 
neighbor  relieved  me  of  my  task.  Again  I  rendered 
cordial  thanks,  and  again,  as  soon  as  delicacy  per- 
mitted, glanced  furtively  at  the  face  beside  me. 
ISTothing  to  reward  my  scrutiny  was  there  revealed ; 
the  same  absorbed,  fixed  expression,  the  same  seem- 
ing unconsciousness!  But  can  you  doubt  that  a 
noble,  manly  nature  was  veiled  beneath  that  calm 
face  and  quiet  manner — a  nature  that  would  gleam 
out  in  an  instant,  should  humanity  prompt,  or 
wrong  excite?  And  I  could  tell  you  numberless 
such  anecdotes — all  illustrative  of  my  favorite 
theory." 

"  So  could  we  all,"  said  another  lady,  "  I  have  no 
doubt,  if  we  only  remembered  them." 

"  I  never  forget  anything  of  that  kind,"  returned 
Margaret.  "It  is  to  me  like  a  strain  of  fine  music, 
dcted poetry^  if  I  may  use  such  a  phrase.  Such  in- 
cidents make,  for  me,  ih^  poetry  of  real  life^  indeed  I 
They  inspire  in  my  heart, 

*  The  still,  swet  miisic  of  humanity.* " 


TO  POLITENESB  AND  FASHION.  l40 


One  magnificent  moonlight  night,  while  I  was  in 

Home  with  your  cousins  and  the  W s,  a  party 

was  formed  to  visit  the  Coliseum.  That  whimsical 
creature,  Grace,  whom  I  had  more  than  once  detected 
in  a  disposition  to  fall  behind  the  rest  of  the  company, 
as  we  strolled  slowly  through  the  ruins,  at  length 
stole  up  to  me,  as  I  paused  a  little  apart  from  the 
group,  and  twining  her  arm  within  mine,  whispered 
softly : 

"  Do,  dear  Uncle  Hal,  come  this  way  with  me  for 
a  few  moments !" 

Yielding  to  the  impulse  she  gave  me,  we  were 
presently  disengaged  from  our  companions,  and, 
leaning,  as  if  by  mutual  agreement,  against  a  pillar. 

"  What  a  luxury  it  is  to  be  quiet !"  exclaimed  your 
cousin,  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  How  that  little  Miss 
3 — _  (^es  chatter!  Eeally  it  is  profanation  to 
think  or  speak  of  common  things  to-night,  ^nd  here  I'^ 

"  Well,  my  fair  Epicurean,"  returned  I,  "  since 

'  Silence,  like  a  poultice  comes 

To  heal  the  blows  of  sound,' 

you  shall  reward  me  for  my  indulgence  in  attending 
you,  by  repeating  some  of  Byron's  a^qpos  lines, 
for  me  as  we  stand  here  " — 

"  At  your  pleasure,  dear  uncle." 

Presently  she  began,  in  a  subdued  tone,  as  if  afraid 
of  disturbing  the  dreams  of  another,  or  as  if  hali 
listening  while  she  spoke  to  the  tread  of  those 


150  THE  AMERICAN  GENTLEMAN  S  GUIDB 

*  Whose  distant  footsteps  echo 
Through  the  corridors  of  Time ;' 

but  gradually  losing  all  consciousness,  save  that  of 
the  inspiration  of  the  bard,  our  fair  enthusiast  reached 
a  climax  of  eloquence  with  the  words — 

*  The  azure  gloom 
Of  an  Italian  night,  where  the  deep  skies  assume 
Hues  which  have  words,  and  speak  to  ye"  of  Heaven, 
Floats  o'er  this  vast  and  wondrous  monument,' " — 

and  she  stretched  out  her  arm,  with  an  impulsire, 
gesture,  as  she  spoke.  I  perceived  a  sudden  recoil, 
at  the  instant,  of  her  dilating  form,  and,  before 
I  could  devise  an  explanation,  heard  the  words, 
*^  You  are  my  prisoner,  madam,"  and  discovered  a 
gentleman  standing  in  the  deep  shadow  of  the  pillar, 
close  at  her  side,  busily  endeavoring  to  disentangle 
the  fringe  of  her  shawl  from  the  buttons  of  his  coat* 

I  remembered,  afterwards,  having  noticed  in  pass- 
ing, sometime  before,  a  shadowy  figure  standing  with 
folded  arms  and  upturned  face,  half  lost  in  the  deep 
shadow  of  a  pillar,  apparently  quite  unconscious  of 
the  vicinity  of  the  chattering  ephemera  fluttering  by 
his  retreat.  I  at  once  surmised  that  Grace  and  I  had 
approached  from  the  other  side,  and  inadvertently  sta- 
tioned ourselves  near  this  asthetical  devotee — so  near 
that  your  cousin,  in  the  excitement  of  her  eloquence, 
had  fastened  a  lasso  upon  the  dress  of  the  stranger. 

"  You  are  my  prisoner,  madam,"  he  said,  in  French. 
The  words  were  simple  enough,  not  so  apposite  but 


TO   POLIl-ENESS   AND   FASHION.  151 

that  many  an  one  might  have  uttered  them  under 
similar  circumstances.  Yet  thej  were  replete  with 
meaning,  conveyed  by  the  subtle  aid  of  intonation 
and  of  manner.  The  most  chivalrous  courtesy,  the 
most  exquisite  refinement,  were  fully  expressed  in 
that  brief  sentence. 

"  I  have  no  fears  either  for  my  purse,  or  my  life," 
returned  the  quick-witted  lady  thus  addressed,  aiding 
in  the  required  disentanglement. 

"  You  need  have  none,"  rejoined  the  gentleman, 
"though  the  laws  of  chivalry  entitle  me  to  demand  a 
goodly  ransom  for  so  fair  a  prize  " — glancing  politely 
towards  me. 

*'  Accept,  at  least,  the  poor  guerdon  of  this  token 
of  my  thanks,"  said  tlie  enthusiast  of  the  moment, 
tendering  a  beautiful  flower,  which  was  opportunely 
loosened  from  her  bosom  by  the  slight  derangement 
of  her  dress. 

"  It  will  be  a  treasured  memento,"  answered  the 
stranger,  receiving  the  proffered  gift  with  graceful 
respect,  and,  bowing  with  the  most  courtly  deference, 
he  walked  rapidly  away,  as  loth,  by  lingering  one 
needless  moment,  to  seem  intrusive. 

"  What  a  voice  !"  exclaimed  Grace,  as  the  retreat- 
ing figure  disappeared  behind  the  fragment  of  a 
fallen  column,  "  blithe  as  the  matin  tone  of  a  lark, 
and" 

"  Clear  as  the  note  of  the  clarion  that  startled  you 
so  upon  the  Appian  "Way,  the  other  day,"  I  sug- 
gested, "  and  indeed,  I  am  not  sure  that  there  was 
not  a  little  tremor  in  your  fingers,  this  time,  my  brave 


162 


lady,  and  that  yon  did  not  hold  just  a  little  tighter 
fast  the  arm  of  your  old  uncle." 

"What  nonsense,  Uncle  Hal!  — could  anything 
be  more  delicately  reassuring — admitting  that  I  was 
startled ,  at  first, — than  the  whole  bearing  of  the 
gentleman?" 

"  Should  you  know  him  again  ?"  I  questioned. 

"  I  think  I  should,  were  it  only  by  the  diamond  he 
wore,"  she  replied,  with  a  little  laugh  at  the  woman's 
reason.  *'  Did  you  observe  it  uncle,  as  his  macin- 
tosh was  opened  by  the  pulling  of  that  silly  fringe — 
really  it  might  grace  the  crescent  of  Dian  herself, 
on  a  gala-night — it  was  a  young  star !  but  I  also  saw 
his  face  distinctly  as  he  raised  his  hat.'* 

Well,  now  for  the  denoument  of  my  story — for 
every  romantic  adventure  should  properly  have  a 
denoument. 

As  we  were  all  riding  on  the  Campagna  a  few 
days  afterwards,  the  usual  intimation  was  given  of 
the  approach  of  the  cortege  of  the  Pope.  Of  course 
we  went  through  the  mummery  of  withdrawing, 
while  the  poor  old  man  was  hurried  along  in  his  air- 
ing. Standing  thus  together,  a  party  of  gentlemen 
rode  rapidly  up,  and,  recognizing  some  of  our  party, 
joined  us. 

Scarcely  were  the  usual  greetings  over,  when 
Grace,  reining  her  horse  near  me,  said,  in  a  low  tone : 
"  Uncle,  there  is  the  '  bright  particular  star'  of  the 
other  night  in  the  Coliseum ;  I  know  I  am  not  mis- 
taken." 

And  so  it  proved — the  polished,  graceful  stranger 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  153 

was  not  a  Prince  incognito^  not  even  an  acreless 
count,  whose  best  claim  to  respect  consisted  in  here- 
ditary titles  and  courtly  manners,  but  a  young  Attic- 
rican  artist ,  full  of  activity,  enthusiasm  and  genius, 
who  had  not  forgotten  to  give  beauty  to  the  casket, 
because  it  enshrined  a  gem  of  high  value. 

Apropos  of  gems — ^I  afterwards  learned  that  the 
superb  brilliant  he  always  wore  on  his  breast  was  a 
token  of  the  gratitude  of  a  distinguished  and  munifi- 
cent patron  and  friend,  for  whom  this  child  of  feel- 
ing and  genius  had  successfully  incarnated  all  that 
was  earthly  of  one  loved  and  lost. 

We  subsequently  became  well  acquainted  with  our 
gifted  countryman,  and  a  right  good  fellow  he  proved. 
We  met  him  constantly  in  society,  while  at  Florence 

— the  Italian  Paradise  of  Americans^  as  Miss 

always  called  it — where  his  genial  manners,  the  type 
of  a  genial  nature,  made  him  a  general  favorite,  as 
well  with  natives  as  foreigners. 

Soon  after  he  was  named  to  me  that  day  on  the 
Campagna,  your  cousin,  who  had  again  moved  from 
my  side,  turned  her  face  towards  us.  The  movement 
arrested  the  attention  of  my  companion — ^he  glanced 
inquiringly  at  me. 

"  I  think  I  am  not  mistaken,  sir ;  have  we  not  met 
before  ?"  and  the  same  exquisite  courtesy  illumined 
his  face  that  had  so  impressed  me  previously.  "  May 
I  ask  the  honor  of  a  presentation  to  my  sometime 
prisoner?" 

"  Keally,  sir,"  I  overheard  Grace  confessing,  in  hei 
sprightliest  tones,  as,  the  two  parties  uniting  for  tho 


154 


nonce,  we  all  rode  on  together ;  "  really,  sir,  I  re- 
member to  have  been  secretly  rejoiced  at  having  left 
my  heart,  vratch,  and  other  valuables,  safely  locked 
up  at  home,  when  I  found  myself  in  such  a  danger- 
ous-looking neighborhood." 

"And  /still  indulge  the  regiet  that  my  profession 
did  not  fully  entitle  me  to  retain  possession,  not  only 
of  the  shawl,  which,  no  doubt,  was  a  camel's  hair 
of  unknown  value,  but  of  the  embodied  poetry  it 
enwrapped." 

"  You  seem  quite  to  overlook  the  fact  that  I  was 
guarded,  like  a  damsel  of  old,  by  a  doughty  knight." 

I  wish  I  could  half  describe  the  dextrous  twirl  of 
the  moustache,  and  the  quickly-shadowed  brow  that 
suddenly  transformed  that  luminous  and  honest  face 
into  that  of  the  dark,  moody  brigand,  as,  fumbling 
in  his  bosom  the  while,  as  about  to  unsheath  a  dag- 
ger, he  growled,  in  mock-heroic  manner — "  It  were 
easy  to  find  means  to  silence  such  an  opponent,  with 
such  a"  reward  in  view !" 

The  merry  laugh  with  which  Grace  received  this 
sally,  proved  that  she,  at  least,  liked  the  versatility 
of  momner  possessed  by  her  gallant  attendant. 


Touching  the  electric  chain  of  memory,  causes 
another  link  to  vibrate,  and  I  am  reminded  of  my  pro- 
mise, made  in  a  former  letter,  to  tell  you  about  the 
American  girl  whose  beautiful  arm  threw  Powera 
into  raptures. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  155 

Yon  will,  perhaps,  recollect  that  I  alluded  to  my 
having  met  abroad  the  heroine  of  the  cor7ielian pdte 
anecdote.  I  assm-e  yon,  I  had  ample  occasion,  more 
than  once,  to  be  prond  of  my  lovely  countrywoman, 
in  the  most  distinguished  European  circles — and  by 
that  term  I  do  not  refer  to  distinction  created  by 
mere  rank.     But  to  my  tale : 

One  day,  during  our  mutual  sojourn  in  her  well- 
named  Italian  "  Paradise,"  Miss ,  and  her  father, 

in  accordance  with  a  previous  arrangement,  called 
at  my  lodgings,  to  take  me  with  them  to  a  dinner  at 
the  Palace  de . 

"  I  propose,  as  we  have  purposely  come  early,  Col. 
Lunettes,  in  the  hope  of  finding  you  at  leisure,  that 
we  shall  drop  in  at  Powers'  studio,  a  few  minutes ; 
it  is  in  our  direct  way,  and  he  will  be  there,  as  !■ 
happen  to  know.  I  so  wish  to  know  your  impression 
of  papa's  bust." 

While  I  was  enjoying  a  chat  with  the  presiding 
genius  of  the  scene,  a  little  apart  from  a  group 
gathered  about  some  object  of  peculiar  interest,  a 
sudden  glow  of  enthusiasm  lighted  his  eye,  as  with 
Promethean  fire. 

"Heavens,  what  an  arm!"  exclaimed  Powers. 
"Oh,  for  the  art  to  petrify  it!"  he  added,  with  an 
expressive  gestm*e,  the  furore  of  the  artist  rapidly 
enkindling.  ' 

Following  the  direction  of  his  glance,  I  beheld 
what  might  well  excite  admiration  in  a  less  discrimi- 
nating spectator.  The  velvet  mantle  that  had 
shrouded  the  gala- dress  of  Miss having  fallen 


156  THE   AMEKICAJ!!   GENTLEMAN  S   GUIDE 

from  her  shoulders,  disclosed  the  delicate  beauty  of 
the  uncovered  arm  and  hand,  which  she  was  eagerly 
extending  towards  the  marble  before  her. 

"  Kemain  just  as  you  now  stand,  for  a  moment," 
said  I,  "  and  let  me  see  what  I  can  do  for  you." 

"  Miss ,"  1  asked,  advancing  towards  my  fair 

friend,  "  will  you  let  me  invite  your  attention  to  this 
new  study  ?  It  is  entitled  '  The  Artist's  Prayer,'  and 
18  supposed  to  impersonate  the  petition,  *  Petrify  it, 
O,  ye  gods!'" 

Of  course,  this  led  to  a  brief  and  laughing  expla- 
nation. 

"Happily,  no  earthly  Powers  can  achieve  that 
transformation !"  exclaimed  the  Lucifer  of  the  Coli- 
seum, who  was  present,  "  but  all  will  join  in  the 
entreaty  that  we  may  be  permitted  to  possess  an 
imitation  of  so  beautiful  an  original." 

I  am  not  permitted  to  disclose  the  secrets  of  the 
inner  temple ;  but  many  of  you  will  yet  behold  the 
loveliness  that  so  charmed  the  lovers  of  art,  moulded 
into  eternal  marble. 


TO   POLITENESS  AND   FASHION.  157  *^ 


LETTER  YI. 

manner,   continued. 

bule8  fob  visiting,  and  for    manner  in   societt 
generally. 

My  dear  Nephews: 

Having  attempted,  in  my  last  two  letters, 
with  what  success  you  will  best  j  udge,  to  give  you 
some  practical  hints  respecting  manner  at  home  and 
in  the  street,  suppose  we  take  up,  next,  the  consi- 
deration of  the  conduct  proper  in  Visiting,  and  on 
public  occasions,  generally. 

Among  the  minor  obligations  of  social  life,  per- 
haps few  things  are  regarded  as  more  formidable  by 
the  unpractised,  than  ceremonious  morning  visits  to 
ladies.  And  perhaps,  among  the  simple  occurrences 
of  ordinary  existence,  few  serve  more  fully  to  illus- 
trate individual  tact,  self-possession,  and  conver- 
sational skill. 

"Without  aiming  at  much  method  in  so  doing,  I 
will  endeavor  to  furnish  you  with  a  few  directions 
of  general  applicability. 

Hours  for  making  morning  calls  are  somewhat 
varied  by  place  and  circumstance ;  but,  as  a  rule^ 


158 


twelve  o'clock  is  the  earliest  hour  at  which  it  is 
admissible  to  make  a  visit  of  ceremony.  From 
that  time  until  near  the  prevailing  dinner-horn*,  in  a 
small  town,  or  that  known  to  be  such  in  particular 
instances,  one  may  suit  one's  convenience. 

It  is  obviously  unsuitable,  usually,  to  prolong  an 
interview  of  this  kind  beyond  a  very  moderate 
length,  and  hence,  as  well  as  for  other  reasons,  the 
conversation  should  be  light,  varied,  and  appropriate 
to  outward  circumstances. 

It  is  proper  to  send  your  card,  not  only  to 
announce  yourself  to  strangers  to  whom  you  may 
wish  to  pay  your  respects,  but  to  all  ladies  with 
whom  you  are  not  upon  very  intimate  terms,  and 
at  a  private  house,  to  designate  intelligibly  to  the 
servant  who  receives  your  card,  the  individual,  or 
the  several  persons,  whom  you  wish  to  see. 

If  you  go  to  a  hotel,  etc.,  for  this  purpose,  write  the 
name  of  the  lady  or  ladies,  for  whom  your  visit  is 
designed,  upon  your  card,  dbove  your  own  name,  in 
a  legible  manner,  and  await  the  return  of  the  mes- 
senger, to  whom  you  intrust  it,  where  you  part  from 
him.  If,  upon  his  return,  you  are  to  remain  for 
your  friends,  and  there  be  a  choice  of  apartments 
for  that  purpose,  unless  you  choose  to  station  your- 
self within  sight  of  the  stairs  they  must  of  need 
descend,  or  the  corridor  through  which  they  must 
pass,  let  the  porter  in  attendance  distinctly  understand 
not  only  your  name,  but  where  you  are  to  be  found, 
and  if  possible,  give  him  some  clue  to  the  identifica- 
tion of  the  friends  you  wish  to  see.     After  a  few 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  159 

vexatious  mistakes  and  misapprehensions,  you  will 
admit  the  wisdom  of  these  precautionary  measures,  I 
have  no  doubt.  When  you  are  shown  into  the  draw- 
ing-room of  a  private  residence,  if  the  mistress  of  the 
mansion  is  present,  at  once  advance  towards  her. 
Should  she  offer  her  hand,  be  prompt  to  receive  it, 
and  for  this  purpose,  take  your  hat,  stick,  and  right- 
hand  glove  (unless  an  occasion  of  extreme  ceremony 
demands  your  wearing  the  latter),  in  your  left  hand, 
as  you  enter.  K  your  hostess  does  not  offer  her 
hand,  when  she  rises  to  receive  you,  simply  bow,  as 
you  pay  your  compliments,  and  take  the  seat  she 
designates,  or  that  the  servant  places  for  you.  When 
there  are  other  ladies  of  the  same  family  present, 
speak  to  each,  in  succession,  according  to  age,  or 
other  proper  precedence,  before  you  seat  yourself. 
If  there  are  ladies  in  the  room  whom  you  do  not 
know,  bow  slightly  to  them,  also,  and  if  you  are 
introduced,  after  you  have  assumed  a  seat,  rise  and 
bow  to  them.  When  men  are  introduced,  they  usu- 
ally mutually  advance  and  shake  hands ;  but  the 
intimation  that  this  will  be  agreeable  to  her,  should 
always  be  the  test  when  you  are  presented  to  a  lady, 
or  when  you  address  a  lady  acquaintance. 

Some  tact  is  necessary  in  deciding  your  move- 
ments when  you  find  yourself  preceded  by  other 
visitors,  in  making  a  morning  call.  If  you  have  no 
special  reason,  as  a  message  to  deliver,  or  an 
appointment  to  make,  for  lingering,  and  discover 
that  you  are  interrupting  a  circle,  or  when  you  are 
ji  the  midst  of  strangers,  where  the   conversation. 


160  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

does  not  at  once  become  general,  upon  your  making 
one  of  them,  address  a  few  polite  phrases  to  your 
hostess,  if  you  can  do  so  with  ease  and  propriety 
from  your  position  with  regard  to  her,  and  take 
leave,  approaching  her  nearly  enough,  when  you 
rise  to  go,  to  make  your  adieu  audible,  or  to  receive 
her  hand,  should  she  offer  it.  To  strangers,  even 
when  you  have  been  introduced,  you,  ordinarily,  only 
bow  passingly,  as  you  are  about  to  quit  the  room. 

Should  you  have  a  special  object  in  calling  upon 
a  lady,  keep  it  carefully  in  view,  that  you  may 
accomplish  it  before  you  leave  her  presence.  When 
other  visitors,  or  some  similar  circumstance,  interfere 
with  the  accomplishment  of  your  purpose,  you  may 
write  what  you  wish  upon  a  card  in  the  hall,  as  you 
go  out,  and  intrust  it  to  a  servant,  or  leave  a  message 
with  him,  or  in  case  of  there  being  objections  to 
either  of  those  methods  of  communication,  resort  to 
an  appointment  requested  through  him,  or  subse- 
quently write  a  note  to  that  effect,  or  containing  an 
explanation  of  the  object  of  your  visit.  When  you 
determine  to  outstay  others  at  a  morning  reception, 
upon  the .  rising  of  ladies  to  depart,  you  rise  also, 
under  all  circumstances ;  and  when  they  are  acquaint- 
ances, and  unattended  by  a  gentleman,  accompany 
them  to  the  street-door,  and  to  their  carriage,  if  they 
are  driving,  and  then  return  to  your  hostess.  Unac- 
quainted, you  simply  stand  until  ladies  leave  tho 
room,  politely  returning  their  parting  salutation,  if 
they  make  one.  Any  appearance  of  a  wish  on  the 
part  of  those  whom  you  chance  to  meet  thus,  for  an 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  161 

€bsid-e  conversation,  will,  of  course,  suggest  the  pro* 
priety  of  occupying  yourself  until  your  liostess  is  at 
leisure,  with  some  subject  of  interest  in  the  room — 
turn  to  a  picture,  open  a  book,  examine  some  article 
of  Mjouterie^  and,  thus  civilly  unobtrusive,  observe 
only  when  it  is  proper  for  you  to  notice  the  separa- 
tion of  the  company. 

As  I  have  before  said,  in  making  a  visit  of  mere 
politeness,  some  passing  topic  of  interest  should  suc- 
ceed the  courteous  inquiries,  etc.,  that  naturally 
commence  the  conversation.  Visiting  a  lady  prac- 
tised  in  the  usages  of  society,  relieves  one,  very 
naturally,  from  any  necessity  for  leading  the  conver- 
sation. 

When  your  object  is  to  make  an  appointment, 
give  an  invitation,  etc.,  repeat  the  arrangement 
finally  agreed  upon,  distinctly  and  deliberately,  upon 
rising  to  go  away,  that  both  parties  may  distinctly 
understand  it,  beyond  the  possibility  of  mistake. 

In  attending  ladies  who  are  making  morning  visits, 
it  is  proper  to  assist  them  up  the  steps,  ring  the  bell, 
write  cards,  etc.  Entering,  always  follow  them  into 
the  house  and  into  the  drawing-room,  and  wait  until 
they  have  finished  their  salutations,  unless  you  have 
to  perform  the  part  of  presenting  them.  In  that 
case,  you  enter  with  them,  or  stand  within  the  door 
until  they  have  entered,  and  advance  beside  them 
into  the  apartment. 

Ladies  should  always  be  the  first  to  rise,  in  termi- 
nating a  visit,  and  when  they  have  made  their  adieux, 


162 

their  cavaliers  repeat  the  ceremony,  and  follow  them 
out. 

When  gentlemen  call  together,  the  younger,  oi 
least  in  rank,  gives  careful  precedence  to  others, 
rendering  them  courtesies  similar  to  those  due  to 
ladies. 

Soiled  over-shoes,  or  wet  over-garments,  should, 
on  no  account,  be  worn  into  an  apartment  devoted 
to  the  use  of  ladies,  unless  they  cannot  be  safely  left 
outside — as  in  the  passage  of  a  public  house.  In 
such  case,  by  no  means  omit  an  apology  for  the 
necessary  discourtesy. 

When  ladies  are  not  in  the  apartment  where  you 
are  to  pay  your  respects  to  them,  advance  to  meet 
them  upon  their  entrance ;  and  in  the  public  room 
of  a  hotel,  meet  them  as  near  the  door  as  possible, 
especially  if  there  is  no  gentleman  with  them,  or 
the  room  be  previously  occupied,  and  conduct  them 
to  seats. 

ISTever  remain  seated  in  the  company  of  ladies 
with  whom  you  are  ceremoniously  associated,  while 
they  are  standing.  Follow  them  to  any  object  of 
interest  to  which  they  direct  your  attention ;  place 
a  seat  for  them,  if  much  time  will  be  required  for 
such  a  purpose ;  ring  the  bell,  bring  a  book ;  in 
short,  courteously  relieve  them  from  whatever  may 
be  supposed  to  involve  effort,  fatigue,  or  discomfort 
of  any  kind.  It  is,  for  this  reason,  eminently  suitable 
to  offer  the  arm  to  ladies  when  ascending  stairs. 
Nothing  is  more  absurd  than  the  habit  oi  jprecedmg 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  163 

them  adopted  by  some  men — as  if  by  following  just 
behind,  as  one  should,  if  the  arm  is  disengaged, 
there  can  be  any  violation  of  propriety.  Soiled  frills 
or  unmended  hose  must  have  originated  this  vul- 
garity !  Tender  the  arm  on  the  wall  side  of  a  lady, 
mounting  a  stairs,  that  she  may  have  the  benefit  of 
the  railing,  and  the  fewer  steps  upon  a  landing ;  and 
in  assisting  an  invalid,  or  aged  person,  it  is  often 
well  to  keep  one  step  in  advance.  It  is  always 
decorous  to  suit  your  pace  to  those  you  would 
assist. 

It  is  also  a  proper  courtesy,  always  to  relieve 
ladies  of  their  parcels,  parasols,  shawls,  etc.,  when 
ever  this  will  conduce  to  their  convenience,  which 
is  especially  the  case,  of  course,  when  they  are 
occupied  with  the  care  of  their  dresses  in  ascending 
Bteps,  entering  a  carriage,  or  passing  through  a 
crowd. 

The  rules  of  etiquette  properly  observable  m 
making  ordinary  ceremonious  morning-visits,  are 
also  applicable  to  Morning  Wedding- Beceptions  with 
slight  variations.  Of  course,  you  do  not  then  an- 
nounce yourself  by  a  card.  "When  previously  ac- 
quainted with  her,  you  advance  immediately  to  the 
bride,  and  offer  your  wishes  for  her  future  happiness, 
Never  congratulate  a  lady  upon  her  marriage ;  such 
felicitations  are,  with  good  taste,  tendered  to  tho 
bridegroom,  not  to  the  bride. 

Having  paid  your  compliments  to  the  bride, 
you  shake  hands  with  the  groom,  and  bow  to  the 
bride-maids,  when  you  know  them.     Tho  mother  of 


164:  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

the  bride  should  then  be  sought.  Here,  again 
refinement  dictates  the  avoidance  of  too  eager 
congratulations.  While  expressiDg  a  cordial  hope 
that  the  parents  have  added  to  their  prospects  of 
future  pleasure  in  receiving  a  new  member  into 
their  family,  do  not  insinuate,  by  your  manner,  the 
conviction  that  they  have  no  natural  regret  at  resign- 
ing their  daughter 

"To  another  path  and  guide, 
To  a  bosom  yet  untried." 

It  is  not  usual  to  sit  down  on  such  occasions  ;  and  it 
is  as  obviously  unsuitable  to  remain  long,  as  it  is  to 
engage  the  attention  of  those  whom  others  may  be 
waiting  to  approach,  beyond  the  utterance  of  a  few 
brief,  well-chosen  sentences. 

When  you  require  an  introduction  to  the  bride, 
but  are  acquainted  with  her  husband,  you  may 
speak  first  to  him,  and  so  secure  a  presentation. 
Usually  a  groomsman,  or  some  other  gentleman,  is  in 
readiness  to  present  unknown  visitors.  In  that  case, 
should  he,  too,  be  a  stranger  to  you,  mention  your 
name  to  him,  and  any  little  circumstance  by  which 
he  may  afford  a  passing  theme  or  explanation,  when 
he  introduces  you — as,  that  you  are  a  friend  of  her 
father — promised  your  particular  friend,  her  sister, 
to  pay  your  respects,  etc. 

On  this,  as  in  the  instance  of  all  similar  occasions, 
tact  and  good-taste  must  suggest  the  variations  of 
manner  required  by  the  greater  or  less  degree  of 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  165 

ceremony  prevailing,  and  your  individual  relations 
to  those  you  visit. 

In  tliis  connection  I  will  add  that  a  card  may 
sometimes  be  properly  made  a  substitute  for  paying 
one's  respects  in  person — ^with  a  pencilled  phrase  of 
politeness,  or  accompanied  by  a  note.  In  either 
case,  an  envelope  of  the  most  unexceptionable  kind 
should  be  used,  and  a  note  written  with  equal  atten- 
tion to  ceremony. 

A  Visit  of  Condolence  is  often  most  tastefully 
made  by  going  in  person  to  the  residence  of  your 
friend,  and  leaving  a  courteous  message,  and  your 
card,  with  a  servant.  Much  politeness  is  sometimes 
expressed  by  the  earliest  possible  call  upon  friends 
just  arrived  from  a  journey,  etc.,  or  by  leaving  or 
sending  a  card,  with  a  pencilled  expression  of 
pleasure,  and  of  the  intention  of  availing  yourself 
of  the  first  suitable  moment  for  paying  your  com- 
pliments in  person. 

Yisits  upon  New- Year's  Day  should  be  short,  as  a 
rule,  for  the  reasons  before  suggested,  and  it  is  not 
usual  to  sit  down,  except  when  old  friends  urge  it,  or 
when  the  presence  of  an  elderly  person,  or  an  invalid, 
demands  the  appearance  of  peculiar  consideration. 

On  all  occasions  of  ceremonious  intercourse  with 
superiors  in  age  and  station,  one  or  both,  manner 
should  be  regulated,  as  respects  familiarity,  or  even 
cordiality,  by  them.  "  He  approached  me  wdth 
familiarity^  I  repulsed  him  with  ceremony ^'^  said  a 
man  of  rank,  alluding  to  an  impertinence  of  this 
kind.    Never  be  the  first,  under  such  circumstances, 


16B 


to  violate  the  strict  rules  of  convention.  Tlieir 
observance  is  often  the  safeguard  of  sensibility,  as 
well  as  of  self-respect. 

Simple  good-taste  will  dictate  the  most  quiet,  un^ 
noticeable  bearing  at  Church.  The  saying  of  the 
celebrated  Mrs.  Ohapone,  that  "  it  was  part  of  her 
religion  not  to  disturb  the  religion  of  others,"  is  all 
inclusive.  To  enter  early  enough  to  be  fully  esta- 
blished in  one's  seat  before  the  service  commences, 
to  attend  politely,  but  very  unostentatiously,  to  the 
little  courtesies  that  may  render  others  comforta- 
ble, to  avoid  all  rude  staring,  and  all  appearance  of 
inattention  to  the  proper  occupations  of  the  occasion, 
as  well  as  every  semblance  of  irreverence^  will  occur 
to  all  well-bred  persons  as  obviously  required  by 
decorum.  "When  necessitated  to  go  late  to  church, 
one  should,  as  on  all  similar  occasions,  endeavor  to 
disturb  others  as  little  as  possible ;  but  with  equal 
Btudiousness  avoid  the  vulgar  exhibition  of  discom- 
posure, of  over-diffidence,  or  of  any  consciousness, 
indeed,  of  being  observed.,  which  so  unmistakably 
savors  of  low-breeding.  I  cannot  too  frequently 
remind  you  that  self-possession  is  one  of  the  grand 
distinctive  attributes  of  a  gentleman,  and  that  it  is 
often  best  illustrated  by  a  simple,  quiet,  successful 
manner  of  meeting  the  exigencies  and  peculiarities 
of  circumstances. 

Never  wear  your  hat  into  church.  Kemove  it  in  the 
vestibule,  and  on  no  account  resume  it  until  you  re- 
turn thither,  unless  health  imperatively  demands  your 
doing  so  just  before  reaching  the  door  opening  into  it. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  167 

All  nodding,  whispering,  and  exchanging  of 
glances  in  church,  is  in  bad  taste.  Even  the  latter 
should  not  be  indulged  in,  unless  a  very  charming 
woman  is  the  provoking  cause  of  the  peccadillo,  and 
then  very  stealthily  and  circumspectly  I 

Salutations,  even  with  intimate  friends,  should 
always  be  very  quietly  exchanged,  while  one  is  still 
within  the  body  of  the  sacred  edifice,  and  the  "  outer 
court"  of  the  house  of  God  were  better  not  the  scene 
of  boisterous  mirth,  or  rude  jostling.  Let  me  add, 
here,  that  it  is  always  proper,  when  compelled  to 
hurry  past  those  of  right  before  you,  at  church,  or 
elsewhere  in  a  crowd,  to  apologize,  briefly,  but  po- 
litely, for  discommoding  any  one. 

Whenever  you  are  in  attendance  upon  ladies,  as  at 
the  opera,  concerts,  lectures,  etc.,  there  is  entire  pro- 
priety in  remaining  with  them  in  the  seat  you  have 
paid  for,  or  secured  by  early  attendance.  itTo  gen- 
tleman should  be  expected  to  separate  himself  from 
a  party  to  give  his  place  to  a  lady  under  such  circum- 
stances, and  in  no  country  but  ours  would  such  a 
request  or  intimation  be  made.  But  while  it  is  quite 
justifiable  to  retain  the  seat  taken  upon  entering 
such  a  public  place,  nothing  is  more  wholly  inad- 
.  missible  than  crowding  in  and  out  of  your  plact 
repeatedly,  talking  and  laughing  aloud,  mistimea 
applauding,  and  the  like.  If  you  are  not  present  for 
the  simple  purpose  of  witnessing  the  performance, 
whatever  it  may  be,  there  are,  doubtless,  those  who 
are ;  and  it  is  not  only  exceedingly  vulgar,  but 
immoral,  to  invade  their  rights  in  this  regard.     Be 


i 


168 


careful,  therefore,  to  secure  your  libretto,  concert- 
bill,  or  programme,  as  the  case  may  be,  before 
assuming  your  seat ;  and  when  you  have  ladies  with 
you,  or  are  one  of  a  party,  especially,  as  then  you 
cannot  so  readily  accept  the  penalty  of  carelessness, 
by  not  returning  to  your  first  seat.  Should  any  un- 
foreseen necessity  compel  you  to  crowd  past  others, 
and  afterwards  resume  your  seat,  presume  as  little  as 
possible  upon  their  polite  forbearance,  by  great  care 
of  dresses,  toes,  etc.,  and  each  time  politely  apologize 
for  the  inconvenience  you  occasion.  Let  me  repeat 
that  no  excuse  exists  for  the  too-frequent  rudeness 
of  disturbing  others  by  fidgeting,  whispering,  laugh- 
ing, or  applauding  out  of  time.  And  even  when 
standing  or  moving  about  between  the  exercises,  on 
any  public  occasion,  or  the  acts  at  a  play-house,  or 
opera,  well-bred  people  are  never  disregardful  of 
the  rights  and  comfort  of  others. 

In  a  picture-gallery,  at  an  exhibition  of  marbles, 
etc.,  nothing  can  be  mote  indicative  of  a  want  of 
refinement  sufficient  to  appreciate  true  art,  than  the 
impertinence  exhibited  in  audible  comments  upon 
the  subjects  before  you,  and  in  interfering  with  the 
enjoyment  of  others  by  passing  before  them,  moving 
seats  noisily,  talking  and  laughing  aloud,  etc.  With 
persons  of  taste  and  refinement,  there  is  an  almost 
religious  sacredness  in  the  presence  of  the  crea- 
tions of  genius,  to  desecrate  which,  is  as  vulgar 
as  it  is  irreverential  of  the  beautiful  and  the  goodi 
Always  then,  carry  out  the  most  scrupulous  regard 
of  the  rights  and  feelings  of  others,  when  yourself  a 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  169* 

devotee  at  the  shrine  of  ^Esthetics,  bj  attention  to 
the  minutest  forms  of  courtesy.  This  will  dictate 
leaving  your  place  the  moment  you  rise,  carrying 
everything  with  you  belonging  to  you,  and  never 
stopping  to  shawl  ladies,  don  an  overcoat,  or  dis- 
pose of  an  opera-glass,  until  you  can  do  so  without 
interrupting  the  comfort  of  those  you  leave  behind 
you. 

When  you  wish  to  take  refreshments,  or  to  offer 
them  to  ladies,  at  public  entertainments,  it  is  better 
to  repair  to  the  place  where  they  are  served,  as  a 
rule,  unless  it  be  in  the  instance  of  a  single  glass 
of  water,  or  the  like ;  except  when  a  party  occupy 
an  opera-box,  etc.,  exclusively. 

Be  careful  never  to  attach  yourself  to  a  party 
of  which  you  were  not  originally  one,  at  any  time, 
or  place,  unless  fully  assured  of  its  being  agreeable 
to  the  gentlemen  previously  associated  with  ladies ; 
or  if  a  gentleman's  party  only,  attracts  you,  make 
yourself  quite  sure  that  no'  peccadillo  be  involved  in 
your  joining  it,  and  in  either  case,  let  your  manner 
indicate  your  remembrance  of  the  circumstance  of 
your  properly  standing  in  the  relation  of  a  recipient 
of  the  civilities  due  to  the  occasion. 

Some  men  practically  adopt  the  opinion  that  the 
courteous  observances  of  social  and  domestic  life 
are  wholly  inapplicable  to  business  intercourse.  A 
little  consideration  will  prove  this  a  solecism.  Good 
oreeding  is  not  a  thing  to  be  put  off  and  on  witb 
varying  outward  circumstance.  If  genuine,  inhe- 
rent, it  will  always  exhibit  itself  as  certainly  as 

8 


ITO^ 


integrity,  or  any  other  unalienable  quality  of  an 
individual.  The  manifestations  of  this  characteristic 
by  manner^  will,  of  course,  vary  with  occasion,  but 
it  will,  nevertheless,  be  apparent  at  all  times,  and  to 
all  observers,  when  its  legitimate  influence  is  rightly 
understood  and  admitted. 

Hence,  then,  though  the  observance  of  elaborate 
ceremony  in  the  more  practical  associations  of  busy 
outer  life  would  be  absurdly  inappropriate,  that  care- 
ful respect  for  the  rights  and  feelings  of  others,  which 
is  the  basis  of  all  true  politeness,  should  not,  under 
these  circumstances,  be  disregarded. 

The  secret  of  the  superior  popularity  of  some  busi- 
ness men  with  their  compeers  and  erwployes^  lies 
often,  rather  in  manner  than  in  any  other  character- 
istic. You  may  observe,  in  one  instance,  a  universal 
favorite,  to  whom  all  his  associates  extend  a  welcom- 
ing hand,  as  though  there  were  magic  in  the  ready 
smile  and  genial  manner,  and  who  is  served  by  his 
inferiors  in  station  with  cheerfulness  and  alacrity,  in- 
dicating that  a  little  more  than  a  mere  business  bond 
draws  them  to  him  ;  and  again,  an  upright,  but  exter- 
nally-repulsive man,  though  always  commanding 
respect  from  his  compeers,  holds  them  aloof  by  his 
frigidity,  and  receives  the  service  of  fear  rather  than 
of  love  from  those  to  whom  he  may  be  always  just, 
and  even  humane,  if  never  sympathizing  and  un- 
bending. 

As  I  have  before  remarked,  there  is  no  occasion 
where  we  are  associated  with  others,  that  does  not 
demand  the  exhibition  of  a  polite  manner.    Thus  at 


TO    POLITENESS    AND    FASHION.  171- 

a  public  table^  no  man  should  allow  himself  to  feed 
like  a  mere  animal,  wholly  disregardful  of  those 
about  him,  and,  as  too  frequently  happens,  forgetful 
of  the  proprieties  that  are  observed  when  eating  in 
private.  Only  at  the  best  conducted  hotels  are  all 
things  so  well  and  liberally  appointed  as  to  render 
those  who  meet  at  public  tables  wholly  independent 
of  each  in  little  matters  of  comfort  and  convenience, 
and  a  well-bred  man  may  be  recognized  there,  as  eve- 
rywhere else,  by  his  manner  to  those  who  may  chance 
to  be  near  him.  He  will  neither  call  loudly  to  a  ser- 
vant, nor  monopolize  the  services  that  should  be 
divided  with  others.  His  quick  eye  will  discern  a  lady 
alone,  or  an  invalid,  and  his  ready  courtesy  supply  a 
want,  or  proffer  a  civility,  and  he  will  not  grudge  a. 
little  self-denial,  or  a  few  minutes'  time,  in  exchange 
for  the  consciousness  of  being  true  to  himself,  even 
in  trifles.  ISTor  will  he  ever  eat  as  though  running  a 
race  of  life  and  death  with  Time  !  Health  and  de- 
cency will  alike  prompt  him  to  abstain  wholly  from 
attempting  to  take  a  meal,  rather  than  assimilate 
himself  to  a  ravenous  brute,  to  gratify  his  appetite. ; 
Let  no  plea  of  w^ant  of  time  ever  induce  you,  I  en- 
treat, to  acquire  the  American  habit  of  thus  eating 
in  public.  Even  in  the  compulsatory  haste  of  tra- 
velling, there  is  no  valid  excuse  for  this  unhealthy 
and  disgusting  practice.  And,  with  regard  to  daily 
life  at  one's  hotel,  or  the  like,  the  man  who  is  habi- 
tually regardful  of  the  value  and  right  use  of  time, 
may  well  and  wisely  permit  himself  the  simple  indul- 
gence and  relaxation  of  eating  like  a  gentleman  ! 


172 

While  on  this  subject,  permit  me  to  remind  you 
of  the  impropriety  of  staring  at  strangers,  listening 
to  conversation  in  which  you  have  no  part,  comment- 
ing audibly  upon  others,  laughing  and  talking  bois- 
terously, etc.,  etc.  Let  not  even  admiration  tempt 
you  to  put  a  modest  woman  out  of  countenance,  by 
a  too  fixed  regard,  nor  let  her  even  suspect  that  a  nod, 
a  shrug,  a  significant  whisper  or  glance  had  her  for 
their  object.  Good-breeding  requires  one  to  hear  as 
little  as  possible  of  the  conversation  of  strangers,  near 
whom  he  may  chance  to  be  seated.  We  quietly 
ignore  their  presence  (as  they  should  ours),  unless 
some  exigency  demands  a  courtesy  ;  but  we  do  not 
disturb  our  neighbors  by  vociferousness,  even  in  the 
height  of  merriment,  however  harmless  in  itself. 

Should  a  lady,  even  though  an  entire  stranger,  be 
entering  an  eating-hall  alone,  or  attended  by  another 
gentleman,  at  the  same  moment  with  yourself,  give 
precedence  to  her,  with  a  slight  bow ;  and  so,  when 
quitting  the  room,  as  well  as  to  your  acknowledged 
superiors  in  age  or  position  generally,  and  carefully 
avoid  such  self-engrossment  as  shall  engender  inat- 
tention to  their  observances.  So,  too,  when  meeting 
a  lady  on  a  public  stairs,  or  in  a  passage-way,  give 
place  sufficiently  to  allow  her  to  pass  readily,  touching 
your  hat  at  the  same  moment.  In  the  sa;me  manner 
remove  a  chair,  or  other  obstacle  that  obstructs  the 
way  of  a  lady  in  a  hotel  parlor,  or  on  a  piazza ;  avoid 
placing  a  seat  so  as  to  crowd  a  lady,  encroacli  upon 
a  party,  or  compel  you  to  sit  before  others. 

I  admit  that  these  are  the  minuticB  of  manners,  my 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  173 

dear  fellows ;  but  attention  to  them  will  increase  your 
self-respect,  and  give  elevation  to  your  general  cha- 
racter, just  in  proportion  as  selfi^  subdued,  and  the 
baser  propensities  of  our  nature  kept  habitually  in 
subserviency  to  the  nobler  qualities  illustrated  by 
habitual  good-breeding. 

But  to  return.  Though  the  circumstances  must  be 
peculiar  that  sanction  your  addressing  a  lady  with 
whom  you  are  unacquainted,  in  a  public  parlor,  or 
the  like,  you  are  not  required  by  convention  to  ap- 
pear so  wholly  unconscious  of  her  presence  as  to 
retain  your  seat  just  in  front  of  the  only  fire  in  the 
room  on  a  cold  day,  in  the  only  comfortable  chair,  or 
a  place  so  near  the  only  airy  window  on  a  hot  one, 
as  to  preclude  her  approach  to  it.  ]^or  are  you 
bound  to  sit  in  one  seat  and  keep  your  legs  across 
another,  on  the  deck  of  a  steamer,  in  a  railroad  car, 
in  a  tavern,  at  a  public  exhibition,  while  women 
stcmd  near  you,  compelled  by  your  not  Icnowing 
them  !  Let  me  hope,  too,  that  no  kinsman  of  mine 
will  ever  feel  an  inclination,  when  appealed  to  for 
information  in  some  practical  emergency,  by  one  of 
the  dependent  sex,  to  repulse  her  with  laconic  cold- 
ness, though  the  appeal  should  chance  when  he  is 
hurrying  along  the  public  highway  of  life,  or  through 
the  most  secluded  of  its  by-paths. 

Few  young  men,  I  must  believe,  ever  remember 
when  in  a  large  hotel,  at  night,  with  their  compa- 
nions, that — opening  into  the  corridors  through  which 
they  tramp  like  a  body  of  mounted  cavalry  upon  a 
foray,  with  appropriate  musical  accompaniments — 


1T4 

may  be  the  apartments  of  the  weary  and  the  sick ;  or, 
that,  separated  from  the  room  in  which  they  prolong 
their  nocturnal  revels,  by  only  the  thinnest  of  parti- 
tions, lies  a  timid  and  lonely  woman,  shrinking  and 
trembling  more  and  more  nervously  at  each  succes- 
sive burst  of  mirth  and  song,  or  worse,  that  effectu- 
ally robs  her  of  repose.  Yet  Sir  Walter  Kaleigh,  or 
Sir  Philip  Sidney,  might,  perchance,  have  thought 
even  such  a  trifling  peccadillo  not  un-note-worthy. 

The  same  general  rules  that  are  applicable  to  man- 
ner in  public  places,  at  hotels,  etc.,  are  almost 
equally  so  in  travelling^  modified  only  by  circum- 
stances and  good  sense. 

A  due  consideration  for  the  rights  and  feelings  of 
others,  will  be  a  better  guide  to  true  politeness  than 
a  whole  battery  of  conventionalisms.  Courtesy  to 
ladies,  to  age,  to  the  suffering,  will  here,  as  ever, 
mark  the  true  gentleman,  as  well  as  that  habitual 
refinement  which  interdicts  the  offensive  use  of 
tobacco,  where  women  sit  or  stand,  or  any  other  slo- 
venliness or  indecorum. 

Under  such  circumstances,  as  many  others  in  real 
life,  never  let  cold  ceremony  deter  you  from  render- 
Ing  a  real  service  to  a  fellow-being,  though  you  rea- 
dily avail  yourself  of  its  barriers  to  repel  imperti- 
nence or  vulgarity.  It  is  authentically  recorded  of 
one  of  the  loyal  subjects  of  the  little  crowned  lady 
over  the  ocean,  that,  as  soon  as  he  was  restored  to 
the  privileges  of  civilization,  after  having  been  cast 
away  upon  a  desert  island  with  only  one  other  per- 
son, he  at  once  challenged  his  companion  in  misfor- 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  175 

tune  for  having  spoken  to  him,  during  their  mutual 
exile,  without  an  introduction ! 

Should  you  indulge  in  any  skepticism  respecting 
the  literal  truthfulness  of  this  historical  record,  I  can 
personally  vouch  for  the  following :   Our  eccentric 

and  unhappy  countryman,  the  gifted  poet,  P , 

was  once,  while  travelling,  roused  from  a  moody  and 
absorbing  reverie,  by  the  address  of  a  stranger,  who 

said  :  "  Sir,  I  am  Mr.  W ,  the  author — ^you  have 

no  doubt  heard  of  me."  The  dreamy  eye  of  the 
contemplative  solitaire  lighted  with  a  sudden  fire, 
as  he  deliberately  scrutinized  the  intruder,  then 
quickly  contracting  each  feature  so  that  his  physio- 
gnomy changed  at  once  to  a  very  respectable  imita- 
tion of  a  spy-glass,  he  coolly  inquired:  "  Who  the 
devil  did  you  say  you  are  /" 

Practice  and  tact  combined,  can  alone  give  a  man 
ease  and  grace  of  manner  amid  the  varying  demands 
of  social  life,  but  systematic  attention  to  details  will 
soon  simplify  whatever  may  seem  formidable  in  re- 
gard to  it.  No  one  but  a  fool  or  a  monomaniac  goes 
on  stumbling  through  his  allotted  portion  of  exist- 
ence, when  he  may  easily  learn  to  go  without  stum- 
bling at  all,  or  only  occasionally. 

Thus,  after  experiencing  the  embarrassment  of 
keeping  ladies,  with  whom  you  have  been  driving  in 
a  hired  carriage,  standing  in  the  rain,  or  sun,  or  in  a 
jostling  crowd,  while  you  are  waiting  for  change  to 
pay  your  coach,  or  submitting  to  extortion,  or  search- 
ing for  your  pui'se,  you  will,  perhaps,  resolve,  when 
you  are  next  so  circumstanced,  to  ascertain  before* 


176  THE   AMERICAN   GEJJTTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

hand,  if  possible,  exactly  what  jou  should  lawfully 
pay,  to  have  your  money  ready  before  reaching  your 
final  destination,  and  to  leave  the  ladies  seated  in 
quiet  while  you  alight,  pay  your  fare  and  then 
secure  shawls,  etc.,  and  make  every  other  ar- 
rangement and  inquiry  that  will  facilitate  their 
speedy  and  comfortable  transit  from  the  carriage. 

Thus  much  for  manner  inj^vhlic. 

Now  then,  a  few  words  relative  to  the  bearing 
proper  in  social  intercourse,  and  I  will  release 
you. 

In  the  character  of  Host^  much  is  requisite  that 
would  be  unsuitable  elsewhere,  since  the  youngest 
and  most  modest  man  must,  of  necessity,  then  take 
the  lead.  Thus,  when  you  have  guests  at  dinner, 
some  care  and  tact  are  required  in  the  simple  matter, 
even,  of  disposing  of  your  visitors  with  due  regard 
to  proper  precedents.  Of  course,  when  there  are 
only  men  present,  you  desire  him  whom  you  wish  to 
distinguish,  to  conduct  the  mistress  of  the  mansion  to 
the  table,  and  are,  yourself,  the  last  to  enter  the 
dining-room.  AVhen  there  are  ladies,  the  place  of 
honor  accorded  to  age,  rank,  or  by  some  temporary 
relative  circumstance,  is  designated  as  being  at  your 
right  hand,  and  you  precede  your  other  guests,  in 
attendance  upon  such  a  lady.  A  stranger  lady,  for 
whom  an  entertainment  is  given,  should  be  met  by  her 
host  before  she  enters  the  drawings-room,  and  con- 
ducted  to  the  hostess.  A  gentleman,  under  similar 
circumstances,  must  be  received  at  the  door  of  the 
reception-room.      In   both    instances,   introductions 


TO  POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  177 

should  at  once  be  given  to  those  who  are  invited  to 
meet  such  guests. 

Persons  living  in  large  cities  may,  if  they  possess 
requisite  pecuniary  means,  always  procure  servants 
so  fully  acquainted  with  the  duties  properly  belong- 
ing to  them  as  to  relieve  themselves,  when  they  have 
visitors,  from  all  attention  to  the  details  of  the  table. 
But  it  is  only  in  the  best  appointed  establishments 
that  hospitality  does  not  enjoin  some  regard  to 
these  matters.  It  may  be  unfashionable  to  keep  an 
eye  to  the  comfort  of  one's  friends,  when  we  are 
favored  with  their  company,  to  consult  their  tastes,  to 
humor  their  peculiarities,  to  convince  them,  by  a  thou- 
sand nameless  acts  of  consideration  and  deference, 
that  we  have  pleasure  in  rendering  them  honor  due ; 
— this  may  not  be  in  strict  accordance  with  the 
cold  ceremony  of  modern  fashion,  but  it,  neverthe- 
less, illustrates  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  charac- 
teristics— one  ranked  by  the- ancients  as  a  virtue — 
Hospitality ! 

Permit  me,  also,  to  remind  you  that  sometimes  the 
most  worthy  people  are  not  high-bred — not  familiar 
with  conventional  proprieties ;  that  they  even  have 
a  dread  of  them,  on  account  of  this  ignorance ;  and 
that  they  are,  therefore,  not  fit  subjects  towards 
whom  to  display  strict  ceremony,  or  from  whom  to 
expect  it.  But  always  remember,  that,  though  th^y 
may  not  understand  conventionalisms,  they  will  ful- 
ly appreciate  genuine  kindness^  the  talismanic  charm 
that  will  always  place  the  humblest  and  most  self- 
distrustful  guest  at  ease.     And  never  let  a  vulgar, 

8* 


178 

degrading  fear  of  compromising  your  claims  to  gen- 
tility, tempt  you  to  the  inhumanity  of  wounding  the 
feelings  of  the  humblest  of  your  humble  friends ! 

If  you  have  a  large  rout  at  your  house,  it  will, 
necessarily,  be  impossible  for  you  to  render  special 
attention  to  each  guest;  but  you  should,  notwith- 
standing, quietly  endeavor  to  promote  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  company,  by  bringing  such  persons 
together  as  are  best  suited  to  the  appreciation  of  each 
other's  society,  by  drawing  out  the  diffident,  tender- 
ing some  civility  to  an  elderly,  or  particularly  unas- 
suming visitor,  and,  in  short,  by  a  manner  that, 
without  in  any  degree  savoring  of  over-solicitude,  or 
bustling  self-importance,  shall  save  you  from  a  fate 
similar  to  that  of  a  gentleman  of  whom  I  lately  read 
the  following  anecdote : 

A  stranger  at  a  large  party,  observing  a  gentleman 
leaning  upon  the  coi'ner  of  a  mantel-piece,  with  a 
peculiarly  melancholy  expression  of  countenance, 
accosted  him  thus: — "Sir,  as  we  both  seem  to  be 
entire  strangers  to  all  here,  suppose  we  both  return 
home  ?"     He  addressed  his  host ! 

In  general  society,  do  not  let  your  pleasure  in  the 
conversation  of  one  person  whom  you  may  chance 
to  meet,  or  your  being  attached  to  a  pleasant  party, 
tempt  you  to  forget  the  respect  due  to  other  friends, 
who  may  be  present.  Man-ied  ladies,  whose  hospi- 
talities you  have  shared,  strangers  who  possess  a  claim 
upon  you,  through  your  relations  with  mutual  friends, 
gentlemen  whose  politeness  has  been  socially  extend* 
ed  to  you,  should  never  be  rudely  overlooked,  or 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  179 

discourteously  neglected.  Sucli  a  manner  wou.d 
indicate  rather  a  vulgar  eagerness  for  selfish  enjoy- 
ment than  the  collected  self-possession,  the  well-sus- 
t-ained  good-breeding,  of  a  man  of  the  world.  Do 
not  let  a  sudden  attack  of  the  modesty  suitable  to 
youth  and  insignificance,  induce  you  to  regard  those 
proprieties  as  of  no  importance  in  your  parti- 
cular case — exclaiming,  "What's  Hecuba  to  me, 
or  I  to  Hecuba  ?"  Believe  me,  no  one  is  so  unimpor- 
tant as  to  be  unable  to  give  pleasure  by  politeness ; 
and  no  one  having  a  place  in  society,  has  a  right  to 
self-abnegation  in  this  respect. 


"  Husband,  do  you  know  a  young  Mr.  Y ,  in 

Bociety  here — a  lawyer,  I  think?"  inquired  a  lady- 
friend  of  mine,  of  a  distinguished  member  of  the 
Legislature  of  our  State,  with  whom  I  was  dining,  at 
his  liotel. 

"  Y ?  That  I  do  !^  and  a  right  clever  fellow  he 

is : — why,  my  dear  ?" 

"  Oh,  nothing,  I  met  him  somewhere  the  other  mor- 
ning, and  was  struck  with  his  pleasing  manners.  This 
morning  I  was  really  indebted  to  his  politeness.  You 
know  how  slippery  it  was — well,  I  had  been  at  Mrs. 

S 's  reception,  and  was  just  hesitating  on  the  top 

of  the  steps,  on  coming  away,  afraid  to  call  the  man 
from  his  horses,  and  fearful  of  venturing  down  alone, 

when  Mr.  Y ran  up,   like   a    chamois-hunter, 

and  offered  his  assistance.     He  not  only  escorted  me 


180 


to  the  sleigli,  but  tucked  up  the  furs,  gave  me  my 
muff,  and  inquired  for  your  health  with  such  good- 
humor  and  cordiality  as  really  quite  won  my  heart !" 

"I  should  be  exceedingly  jealous,  were  it  not  that 
he  made  exactly  tlie  same  impression  upon  me,  a  few 
evenings  before  you  joined  me  here.  It  was  at  Miss 
T 's  wedding.  Of  course,  I  had  a  card  of  invita- 
tion to  the  reception,  after  the  ceremony,  but,  disliking 
crowds  as  I  do,  and  as  you  were  not  here,  I  decided 
not  to  go. — ^The  truth  is,  Colonel,  [turning  to  me] 
we  backwoodsmen  are  a  little  shy  of  these  grand 
state  occasions  of  ceremony  and  parade." — 

"  Backwoodsmen,  as  you  are  pleased  to  term  them, 
sometimes  confer  far  more  honor  upon  such  occasions 
than  they  upon  him,"  returned  I. 

"You  are  very  polite,  sir.  Well,  as  I  was  saying, 
in  the  morning  I  met  the  bride's  father,  who  was  one 
of  my  early  college  friends,  in  the  street,  and  he 
urged  me,  with  such  old-fashioned,  hearty  cordiality 
to  come,  that  I  began  to  think  the  homely  charm 
of  hospitality  might  not  be  wholly  lacking,  even  at 
a  fashionable  entertainment,  in  this  most  fashionable 
city.  So  the  upshot  of  the  matter  was  my  going, 
though  with  some  misgivings  about  my  court-costume^ 
as  my  guardian-angel  had  deserted  me."  Really, 
boys,  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  chivalrous 
courtesy  that  lighted  the  fine  eye  and  shone  over  the 
manner  of  the  speaker,  as,  with  these  last  words,  he 
bowed  to  the  fair  companion  of  his  life  for  something 
like  half  a  century. 

"You  forget,  my  dear,"  rejoined  the  lady,  as  a  soft 


TO   POLITENESS    AND   FASfnON.  181 

smile,  and  a  softer  blush  stole  over  her  still  beautiful 

face,  "  that  Mrs.  M wrote  me  jou  were  quite 

the  lion  of  the  occasion,  and  that  half  the  young 
ladies  present,  including  the  bride  herself,  were" — 

"  My  dear !  I  cry  you  mercy  ! — Bless  my  soul ! — 
an  old  fellow  like  me !" 

"But  K ,  my  dear  friend,"  I  exclaimed,  "  don't 

be  personal " 

"  Lunettes,  you  were  always,  and  still  are,  irresis- 
tible with  the  ladies,  but — ^you  are  an  exception.^^ 

"I  protest!"    cried  Mrs.   K ,  joining  in  our 

laughter,  "  Mr.  Clay,  to  his  latest  day,  was  in  high 
favor  with  ladies,  young  and  old — there  was  no  with* 
standing  the  charm  of  his  manner.  At  Washington, 
one  winter  that  I  spent  there,  wherever  I  met  him, 
he  was  encircled  by  the  fairest  and  most  distinguish- 
ed of  our  sex,  all  seeming  to  vie  with  each  other  for 
his  attentions — and  this  was  not  because  of  his  politi- 
cal rank,  for  others  in  high  position  did  not  share  his 
popularity ; — it  was  his  grace,  his  courtesy,  his  je  ne 
sais  quoi,  as  the  French  say." 

"  Mr.  Clay  was  as  remarkable  for  quiet  self-pos- 
session and  tact,  in  social  as  in  public  life,"  said  I. 
"  When  I  had  the  honor  to  be  his  colleague,  I  often 
had  occasion  to  observe  and  admire  both.  I  remem- 
ber once  being  a  good  deal  amused  by  a  little  scene 

between  him  and  a  Miss ,  then  a  reigning  belle 

at  Washington,  and  a  great  favorite  of  Mr.  Clay's. 
Keturning  late  one  night  from  the  Capitol,  excessive* 
ly  fatigued  by  a  long  and  exciting  debate,  in  which 
he  had  borne  an  active  part,  he  dropped  into  the 


182 


ladies'  parlor  of  onr  hotel,  on  his  way  up  stairs, 
hoping,  I  dare  say,  Mrs.  K.,  to  enjoy  the  soothing 
influence  of  gentler  smiles  and  tones  than  those  he  had 
left.  The  room  was  almost  deserted,  but,  ensconced 
in  one  comer  of  a  long,  old-fashioned  sofa,  sat  Miss 
,  reading.  His  keen  eye  detected  his  fair  friend 
in  a  moment,  and  his  lagging  step  quickened  as  he 
approached  her.  A  younger  and  handsomer  man 
might  well  have  envied  the  warm  welcome  he 
received.  After  sitting  a  moment  beside  the  lady, 
Mr.  Clay  said,  abruptly : — 

^    "  Miss ,  what  is  your  definition  of  true  polite- 

ness  ?" 

"  Perfect  ease,"  she  replied. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  agree  with  you,  madam,  and, 
with  your  entire  permission,  will  take  leave  to 
assume  the  correctness  of  this  position  /"  As  he 
spoke,  with  a   dextrous    movement,  the   statesman 

disposed  a  large  cushion  near  Miss 's  end  of  the 

sofa,  and  simultaneously,  down  went  his  head  upon 
the  cushion,  and  up  went  his  heels  at  the  other 
extreme  of  the  sofa !  But,  my  dear  fellow,  we  are 
losing  your  adventures  at  the  great  wedding  party, 
all  this  time  " 

"  Yery  true,  my  dear,"  added  Mrs.  K ,  wiping 

her  eyes,  "you  fell  in  love  with  Mr.  Y ,  you 

know  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  returned  my  host,  "  I  did,  indeed  ;  but 

I  had  no  adventures,  in  particular.     Y was  one 

of  the  aids-de-camp^  on  the  occasion,  as  I  knew  by 
the  white  love-knot  (what  is  the  fashionable  name, 


,  TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  l83 

wife  ?)  he  wore  on  his  breast.  He  was  in  the  hall, 
when  I  came  down  stairs,  to  act  in  his  office  of 
groomsman.  Upon  seeing  me,  he  advanced,  and 
asked  whether  he  cou'ld  be  of  any  service  to  me.  I 
explained,  while  I  drew  on  mj  gloves,  that  I  did 
not  know  the  bride,  and  feared  that  even  her  mother 
might  have  forgotten  an  early  friend.  His  young 
eyes  found  the  button  of  my  glove  quicker  than  mine, 
and  as  he  released  my  hand,  he  said,  showing  a  sad 
rent  in  his  own,  "  you  are  fortunate  in  not  having 
split  them,  sir, — but  you  gentlemen  of  the  old  scTwol^'^ 
he  added  with  a  respectful  bow,  "  always  surpass  us 
youngsters  in  matters  of  dress,  as  well  as  everything 
else."  As  he  said  this,  the  young  rogue  glanced 
politely  over  my  plain  black  suit,  and  offered  me  his 
arm  as  deferentially  as  though  I  had  been  an  Ex- 
President,  at  least ;  and  so  on,  throughout  the  even- 
ing, with  apparent  unconsciousness  of  self.  I  should 
have  thought  him  wholly  devoted  to  my  enjoyment 
of  everything  and  everybody,  had  I  not  observed 
that  others,  equally, or  more, in  need  of  his  attention 
than  I,  shared  his  courtesy — from  an  elderly  lady  in 
a  huge  church-tower  of  a  cap,  who  seemed  fearfully 
exercised  less  she  should  not  secure  her  full  share  of 
the  wedding-cake  boxes,  to  one  of  the  little  sisters 
of  the  bride,  who  clung  to  her  dress  and  sobbed  as 
if  her  heart  must  break — all  seemed  to  like  him  and 
defend  on  him." 

"  I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  Y 's  acquaint- 
ance," said  I,  "  but  I  prophesy  that  he  will  succeed 
in  lifer 


184 


"  Yes,  and  make  friends  at  every  step  !"  responded 
Mrs.  K ,  warmly.  "  After  we  parted  this  morn- 
ing, I  Lad  an  agreeable  sort  of  half-consciousness 
that  something  pleasant  had  happened  to  me,  and 
when  I  analised  the  feeling,  Wordsworth's  lines 
seemed  to  have  been  impersonated  to  me : — 

*  A  face  with  gladness  overspread  ! 
Soft  smiles,  by  human  kindness  bred ! 
And  seemliness  complete,  that  sways 
Thy  courtesies,  about  thee  plays ! '  " 


I  have  known  few  persons  with  as  exquisite  aesthe- 
tical  perceptions  as  my  lovely  friend  Minnie.  So  I 
promised  myself  great  pleasure  in  taking  her  to  see 
Cole's  celebrated  series  of  pictures — ^The  Course  op 
Time.  It  was  soon  after  Cole's  lamented  death ;  and, 
as  Minnie  had  been  some  time  living  where  she  was 
deprived  of  such  enjoyments,  she  had  never  seen 
these  fine  pictures. 

As  we  drove  along  towards  the  Art  Union  Gallery, 
the  fair  enthusiast  was  all  eager  expectation.     "  How 

often  my  kind  friend  Mr.  S B.  E ,  used  to 

talk  to  me  of  Cole,"  said  she,  "  and  promise  me  the 
pleasure  of  knowing  him.  When  he  died  I  felt  as 
though  I  had  lost  a  dear  friend,  as  I  had  indeed,  for  all 
who  worship  art,  have  a  friend  in  each  child  of  genius." 

^'  Cole  was  emphatically  one  of  these,"  returned  I, 
"  as  his  conceptions  alone  prove." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Minnie,  ''  I  always  think  of 
him  as  the  poet-painter^  since  I  saw  his  firet  series— 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  185 

the   '  Progress  of  Empire.'     Only  a  poet's  imagina- 
tion could  conceive  bis  subjects." 

I  placed  my  sweet  friend  in  the  most  favorable 
position  for  enjoying  each  picture  in  succession,  and 
seated  myself  at  her  side,  rather  for  the  gratification 
of  listening  to  the  low  murmurs  of  delight  that  should 
be  breathed  by  her  kindred  soul,  than  to  view  the 
painter's  skill,  as  that  no  longer  possessed  the  attrac- 
tion of  novelty  for  me. 

We  had  just  come  to  the  sublime  portraiture  of 
^^  ManKood^^  and  Minnie  seemed  wholly  absorbed  in 
her  ow^n  thoughts  and  imaginings.  Suddenly  a  silly 
giggle  broke  the  charmed  stillness.  The  Devotee  of 
the  Beautiful  started,  as  if  abruptly  awakened  from 
a  dream,  and  a  slight  shiver  ran  through  her  sensi- 
tive frame. 

Turning,  I  perceived,  standing  close  behind  us,  a 
group  of  young  persons,  chattering  and  laughing, 
and  pointing  to  different  parts  of  the  picture  before 
us.  Their  platitudes  were  not,  perhaps,  especially 
stupid,  nor  were  they  more  noisy  and  rude  than  I 
have  known  free-lorn  republicans  before,  under 
somewhat  similar  circumstances ;  but  poor  Minnie 
endured  absolute  torture ;  her  idealized  delight 
vanished  before  a  coarse  reality.  I  well  remember 
the  imploring  and  distressed  look  with  which  she 
whispered :  "  Let  us  go,  dear  Colonel ;"  and  one 
glance  at  her  pale  face  satisfied  me  that  the  spell  was 
irrevocably  broken  for  her,  and  that  her  long  antici- 
pated "joy,"  in  beholding  "a  thing  of  beauty '^ 
had  indeed  been  cruelly  alloyed. 


186  THE  AMERICAN   OENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 


If  my  memory  serves  me  aright,  I  told  you  some- 
thing, in  a  former  letter,  of  an  interesting  lady,  a 
friend  of  mine,  whose  husband  was  shot  all  to  pieces 
in  the  Mexican  War,  and  after  lying  for  many  months 
in  an  almost  hopeless  condition,  finally  so  far  reco- 
vered as  to  be  removed  to  the  sea-board,  to  take  ship 
for  New  Orleans.  "When  informed  of  this,  his  beauti- 
ful young  wife — a  belle,  a  beauty,  and  the  petted  idol 
of  a  large  family  circle  before  her  marriage — set  out, 
at  mid-winter,  accompanied  by  one  of  her  brothers^ 
and  taking  with  her  the  infant-child,  whom  its 
soldier-father  had  never  seen,  to  meet  her  husband 
on  his  homeward  route.  This  explanation  will  ren- 
der intelligible  the  following  incident,  which  she 
herself  related  to  me. 

"  My  brother  remained  with  us  some  time  at  'New 
Orleans,"  said  the  fair  narrator ;  "  but,  as  Ernest 
began  to  improve,  I  entreated  him  to  return  home, 
as  both  his  business  and  his  family  demanded  his 
attention;  and  you  know.  Colonel  Lunettes,"  she 
added,  with  a  sad  smile,  "  that  a  soldier^ s  wife  must 
learn  to  be  brave,  for  her  own  sake  as  well  as  for 
his.  Ernest  had  with  him  an  excellent,  faithful 
servant,  who  was  fully  competent  to  such  service  as 
I  could  not  render,  and  my  little  boy's  nurse  was 
with  me,  of  course.  So  we  made  our  homeward 
journey  by  slow  stages,  but  with  less  suffering  to 
my  husband  than  wt3  could  have  hoped,  and  I  grew 
strong  as  soon  as  we  were  re-united,  and  felt  ade- 
quate to  anything,  almost " 


TO  POLITE JTESS   AND  FASHION.  187 

The  fair  young  creature  added  the  last  word  with 
the  same  mournful  smile  that  had  before  flitted  over 
her  sweet  face,  and  as  if  rather  in  reply  to  the 
doubtful  expression  she  read  in  my  countenance, 
than  from  any  remembrance  of  having  failed,  in  the 
slightest  degree,  in  the  task  of  which  she  spoke. 

"  On  the  night  of  our  arrival  at  A ,  however," 

pursued  Mrs.  Y ,  "  we  seemed  to  reach  such  a 

climax  of  fatigue  and  trial,  as  to  make  further 
endurance  literally  impossible  for  poor  Ernest.  Our 
little  child  had  been  taken  ill  the  day  before,  so  that 
I  could  not  devote  myself  so  entirely  to  him  as  I 
could  have  wished;  and,  as  we  drew  near  home, 
his  impatience  seemed  to  increase  the  pain  of  his 
wounds,  so  that,  on  this  evening,  he  was  almost 
exhausted  both  in  body  and  mind.     "We  stopped  at 

the  D House,  as  being  nearest  the  depot,  which 

was  a  great  point  with  us ;  but  such  a  comfortless, 
shiftless  place !" 

"  An  abominable  hole !"  I  ejaculated  ;  "one  never 
gets  anything  fit  to  eat  there  !" 

"  That  was  the  least  of  our  difficulties,"  returned 
the  lady,  "  as  we  had  to  leave  our  man-servant  to 
look  after  our  luggage,  it  was  with  great  difficulty 
that  my  poor  husband  was  assisted  up  stairs  into  the 
public  parlor,  and  he  almost  fainted  while  I  gave  a 
few  hurried  directions  about  a  room.  Such  a  scene 
as  it  was  !  The  poor  baby,  weary  and  sleepy,  began 
to  cry  for  mamma,  and  nurse  had  as  much  as  she 
could  do  with  the  care  of  him.     Ernest  had  sunk 


188  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

down  upon  the  only  sofa  in  the  room — a  huge, 
heavy  machine  of  a  thing,  that  looked  as  though 
never  designed  to  be  moved  from  its  place  against 
the  wall.     I  gave  my  husband  a  restorative,  but  in 

vain.    He  grew  so  ghastly  pale  that  " a  sob  here 

choked  the  utterance  of  the  speaker. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  I,  taking  her  hand,  "  do  not 
say  another  word  ;  I  cannot  forgive  myself  for  ask- 
ing you  these  particulars — all  is  well  now — do  not 
recall  the  past !" 

"  Excuse  me,  dear  Colonel,  I  wish  to  tell  you,  I 
want  you  to  know,  how  we  were  treated  by  a  brute 
in  human  form — to  ask  you  whether  you  could  have 
believed  in  the  existence  of  such  a  being — so 
utterly  destitute  of  common  politeness,  not  to  say 
humanity." 

"  I  hope  no  one  who  could  aid  you,  in  this 
extremity,  failed  to  do  so." 

*'  You  shall  hear.  Ernest  was  shivering  with  cold, 
as  well  as  exhaustion,  and  whispered  to  me  that  he 
would  try  to  sit  by  the  fire  until  the  room  was 
prepared.  I  looked  round  the  place  for  an  easy- 
chair  ;  there  was  but  one,  and  that  was  occupied  by 
a  man  who  was  staring  at  us,  as  though  we  were 
curiosities  exhibited  for  his  especial  benefit." 

"  '  Ernest,'  said,  I  aloud,  '  you  are  too  weak  to  sit 
in  one  of  these  chairs  without  arms,  and  with 
nothing  to  support  your  head.' 

"  *  I  will  try,  love,'  he  replied,  *  for  I  am  so  cold  !' 

"  '  I  will  ask  that  man  for  his  chair,    I  whispered. 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  189 

Poor  Ernest !  his  eyes  flashed.     *  'No  !  No  I'  said  he, 

*  if  he  has  not  the  decency  to  offer  it,  you  shall  not 
speak  to  him !' 

"  Of  course,  I  would  not  irritate  him  by  opposi- 
tion, but  placed  an  ordinary  chair  before  the  fire, 
and,  supporting  him  into  it,  held  his  head  on  my 
shoulder,  while  I  chafed  his  benumbed  hands.  In 
the  meanwhile,  the  wail  of  the  baby  did  not  help  to 
quiet  us,  nor  to  shorten  the  time  of  waiting ;  and  it 
seemed  as  if  John  would  never  make  his  appear- 
ance, nor  the  room  I  had  ordered  be  prepared.  By 
my  direction,  nurse  rang  the  bell.  I  inquired  of 
the  very  placid  individual  who  answered  it,  whether 
the  room  was  ready  for  us,  and  upon  being  told  that 
they  were  making  the  fire,  entreated  the  emblem  of 
serenity  to  hasten  operations,  and  at  once  to  bring 
me  a  cup  of  hot  tea.  Minutes  seemed  hours  to  me, 
as  you  may  suppose,  and  the  dull  eyes  that  were 
fastened  upon  us  from  the  centre  of  the  stuffed 
chair,  I  so  longed  for,  really  made  me  nervous. 
1  felt  as  though  it  might  be  some  horrid  ghoul, 
rather  than  anything  human,  thus  looking  upon  our 
misery.     '  Good  G ,  Lu !'   said  Ernest,  at  last, 

*  isn't  the  bed  ready  yet  V 

"  I  could  bear  it  no  longer.  Gently  withdrawing 
my  support  from  the  weary,  weary  head,  I  flew  to 
my  boy,  snatched  him  from  nurse,  and  signifying 
my  design  to  her,  we  united  our  powers,  and,  laying 
baby  on  the  sofa,  we  succeeded  in  pushing  it  up  to 
the  side  of  the  fire-place.  Then,  while  I  hushed  the 
child  on  my  breast,  we  piled  up  our  wrappings  and 


190 


placed  mj  husband  upon  the  couch,  so  as  to  rest  his 
poor  wounded  frame  (you  know,  Colonel,  his  spine 
was  injured).  The  groan,  half  of  relief  and  half 
of  tortufe,  that  broke  from  his  lips,  as  he  rested 
his  head,  was  like  to  be  the  '  last  straw '  that  broke 
my  heart — but  the  soldier's  wife  I  How  often  did  I 
repeat  to  myself,  during  that  long  journey  : 


*  Remember  thou'rt  a  soldierh  wifty 
Those  tears  but  ill  become  thee !' 


"Well !  by  this  time,  John  made  bis  appearance, 
and,  consigning  his  master  temporarily  to  his  care,  I 
took  nurse  with  me,  and  went  to  see  what  a  woman's 
ready  hand  could  do  in  expediting  matters  elsewhere. 
When  showed  to  the  room  we  were  expected  to 
occupy,  I  found  it  so  filled  witb  smoke,  and  so  dreadt 
fully  cold,  as  to  be  wholly  uninhabitable,  and  in 
despair  sent  for  the  steward,  or  whoever  he  was,  to 
whom  I  had  given  directions  at  first.  No  otber 
room  with  two  beds  could  be  secured.  By  the  glim- 
mering liglit  of  the  small  lamp  in  the  hand  of  the 
Irishman,  who  was  laboring  with  the  attempt  at  a 
fire,  I  investigated  a  little;  the  smouldering  coals 
belched  forth  volumes  of  smoke  into  my  face. 
Nothing  daunted  by  this  ('twas  not  the  '  smoke  of 
battle,'  though  I  felt  as  though  in  the  midst  of  a 
conflict  of  life  and  death),  I  bade  the  man  remove 
the  blower.  Behold  the  draught  closed  by  the  strip 
of  stone  sometimes  used  for  that  purpose,  after  a 
hard  coal  fire  is  fully  ignited  1    I  think,  Colonel,  you 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  191 

would  have  admired  the  laconic,  imperiously  cool 
tone  and  manner  with  which  I  speedily  effected  the 
removal  of  the  entire  mass  of  cold  hard  coal,  substi- 
tuted for  it,  light,  dry  wood,  and  covering  up  my 
boy,  as  he  still  rested  in  my  arms,  dissipated  the 
smoke  that  contended  with  the  close,  shut-up  sort  of 
air  in  the  room,  for  disagreeability,  by  opening  the 
windows,  had  the  most  comfortable  looking  of  the 
beds  drawn  near  the  fire,  and  opened  to  air  and 
warm,  ordered  up  the  trunks  we  wanted,  opened 
tliem,  hung  a  warm  flannel  dressing-gown  near  the 
fire,  placed  his  slippers  and  everything  else  Ernest 
would  want  just  where  they  would  be  wanted,  near 
the  best  chair  I  could  secure,  and  the  table  that  was 
to  receive  his  supper  when  he  should  be  ready 
for  it,  and,  in  short  put  the  matter  through^  as  Er- 
nest would  say,  with  the  speed  of  desperation.  It 
was  wonderful  how  quickly  all  this,  and  more,  was 
effected  by  the  people  about  me  chiefly  through 
my  ability  to  tell  them  exactly  what  to  do  and  how 
to  do  it.  Excuse  me  if  I  boast;  it  was  the  deep 
calmness  of  despair  that  inspired  me !  J^ow  I  can 
smile  at  the  look  of  blank  amazement  with  which 
Paddy  received  my  announcement  of  the  necessity 
of  taking  out  all  the  coals  from  the  grate,  before 
he  could  hope  to  kindle  a  fire,  and  the  stare  of  the 

man  of  affai/ra  for  the  D House,  as  he  entered 

upon  the  field  of  my  efforts  to  say  that  tea  was 
ready." 

"  There  is  but  one  step  from  the  sublime  to  the 
ridiculous !"  1   exclaimed,  laughing,  in  spite  of  my 


192 


Bympathy  with  my  fair  friend.  "  And  what  became 
of  the  barbarian  in  the  large  chair  ?" 

"  Oh,  when  I  returned  to  the  parlor  to  have  Ernest 
removed  to  our  own  room,  there  he  sat,  still,  lolling 
comfortably  back  in  his  chair,  with  his  hat  on,  and 
his  feet  laid  up  before  him,  and  apparently  as  much 
occupied  as  ever  in  staring  at  the  strangers,  and  no 
more 

*  On  hospitable  thoughts  intent ' 

than  when  I  quitted  the  room,  the  horrid  ghoul  I  I 
was  so  rejoiced  to  escape  with  my  treasures  safe 
from  his  blighting  gaze !  But  now  for  the  moral  of 
my  story,  dear  Colonel,  for  every  story  has  its  moral, 
I  suppose, — John,  Ernest's  man,  told  nurse,  who,  by 
the  way,  was  so  highly  indignant  on  the  occasion,  as 
to  assure  me  afterwards,  that  if  she  had  been  a  man, 
she'd  have  just  pitched  the  selfish  brute  beast  out  of 

the  chair,  and  taken  it  for  Mr.  Y ,  without  so 

much  as  a  '  by  your  leave.' " 

I  could  not  refrain  from  interrupting  Mrs. to 

say  that  I  thought  I  should  have  been  sorely  tempted 
to  some  such  act  myself,  under  the  circumstances. 

"  Yes,"  pursued  Mrs.  Y ,  "  nurse  still  recurs  to 

that  *  awful  cold  night  in  A '  with  an  invariable 

malediction  upon  the  *  had  speret  as  kept  the  chair.' 
But,  as  I  was  saying,  John  told  her  afterwards  that 
the  ghoul  asked  him  who  that  sick  gentleman  was, 
and  said  that  his  wife  appeared  to  be  in  so  much 
trouble  that  he  should  have  offered  to  help  her  along 
a  little,  but  he  wasnH  acquainted  with  her  /" 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  193 


"  Uncle  Hal,  isn't  an  artist  a  gentleman  f "  inquired 
Blanche  of  me  one  morning,  during  a  recent  visit  to 
our  great  Commercial  Metropolis,  as  the  newspaper 
writers  call  it.  "  "What  do  you  mean,  child,"  said  I, 
"  you  cannot  mean  to  ask  whether  artists  ranlc  as 
gentlemen  in  society,  for  that  does  not  admit  of  ques- 
tion." I  saw  there  was  something  troubling  her, 
the  moment  she  came  down,  for  she  did  not  welcome 
her  old  uncle  with  her  usual  sparkling  smile,  though 
she  snugged  close  up  to  me  on  the  sofa,  and  kept 
my  hand  in  both  of  hers,  while  we  were  arranging 
some  matters  about  which  I  had  called. 

"  Is  not  an  engraver  an  artist  ?"  she  inquired,  with 
increased  earnestness  of  tone.  "  Does  not  an  engra- 
ver who  has  a  large  atelier^  numbers  of  employes^ 
and  does  all  kinds  of  beautiful  prints,  heads,  and 
landscapes,  and  elegant  figures,  take  rank  in  social 
life  with  other  gentlemen?" 

"  Certainly,  my  dear ;  but  tell  me  what  you  are 
thinking  of ;  what  troubles  you  my  child  ?" 

**  Well,  you  remember,  dear  uncle,  perhaps,  the 
young  orphan  boy  in  whom  papa  and  all  of  us  used  to 
be  so  interested  the  summer  you  spent  with  us,  long 
ago,  when  we  were  all  children  at  home.  He  is 
now  established  in  this  city,  after  years  of  struggle 
with  difficulties  that  would  have  crushed  a  less 
noble  spirit,  and  his  sisters,  for  whom  he  has  always 
provided,  in  a  great  degree,  though  at  the  cost  of 
almost  incredible  self-denial,  as  I  happen  to  know, 
are  now  nearly  prepared  for  teachers.     We  have 


194: 


always  retained  our  interest  in  tliem  all ;  and  they 
always  make  ns  a  visit  when  they  are  at  D .  In- 
deed, papa  always  says  he  knows  few  young  men  for 
whom  he  entertains  so  high  a  regard ;  and  I  am  sure  ho 
is  very  good-looking,  and  though  he  may  not  he  very 
fashionable, — you  needn't  smile,  uncle  Hal,  I  " 

"  My  dear,  I  am  charmed  with  your  sketch,  and 
shall  go,  at  once,  and  have  my  old  visage  engraved 
by  your  handsome  artist-friend ;  and  when  I  pub- 
lish my  auto-biography,  it  shall  be  accompanied  by 
a  'portrait  of  the  author,'  superbly  engraved  by 
a  '  celebrated  artist.' " 

"He  is  celebrated,  uncle,  really ;  you  have  no  idea 
of  the  vast  number  of  orders  he  has  from  all  parts  of 
the  country,  nor  how  beautifully  he  gets  up  every- 
thing. But  I  must  tell  you,"  proceeded  the  sensi- 
tive little  thing,  with  more  cheerfulness,  for  I  had 
succeeded  in  my  design  of  cheering  her  up  a  little — 
"  Mr.  Zousky — Henry,  as  we  always  call  him,  has 
been  engraving  the  head  of  one  of  our  friends  at 
home  for  a  literary  affair — some  biographical  book, 
or  something  of  that  sort,  and  he  came  up  to  show 
me  one  of  the  '  first  impressions,'  as  I  think  he  calls 
them,  and  to  bring  a  message  from  his  sister,  last 
evening — wishing  me  to  '  criticise,''  ho  told  me,  as 
he  had  nothing  but  rather  an  indifferent  daguerreo- 
type to  copy  from.  It  was  just  before  tea  that  he 
called — ^because  he  is  busy  all  day,  I  suppose,  and 
perhaps,  he  thought  he  should  be  sure  of  finding  me, 
then.  Indeed,  he  said  something  about  fearing  to 
intrude  later,  when  there  might  be  other  visitors-— 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  195 

he  is  the   most  sensitive   and  unobtrusive  being! 
"Well,  just  as  we  were  having  a  nice  little  chat  about 

old  times  at  D ,  cousin  Charles  came  home  and 

came  into  the  parlor.  Of  course,  he  knows  Henry- 
very  well,  for  he  has  seen  him  often  and  often  at 
our  house,  when  he  used  to  be  there  in  vacations 
with  my  brothers ;  and,  indeed,  once  before  Henry 
came  here  to  live,  was  one  of  a  party  of  us,  who 
went  to  his  little  studio,  to  see  his  self-taught  paint- 
ings and  sketches.  When  he  entered  the  room,  I 
said,  '  cousin  Charles,  our  friend  Mr.  Zousky  does 
not  need  an  introduction  to  you,  I  am  sure.'  I  can- 
not describe  his  manner.  I  did  not  so  much  mind 
its  being  cold  and  indifferent,  but  it  was  not  that  of 
an  equal — of  one  gentleman  to  another,  and  without 
sitting  down,  even  for  a  moment,  he  walked  back  to 
the  dining-room,  and  I  heard  him  ask  the  servant 
whether  tea  was  ready.  Henry  rose  in  a  moment, 
and  took  my  hand  to  say  good-bye — oh,  uncle,  I  can- 
not tell  you  how  hurt  I  was  !  His  voice  was  as  low 
and  gentle  as  ever,  but  his  face  betrayed  him !  I 
know  he  noticed  cousin  Charles'  manner.  I  was 
determined  that  he  should  not  go  away  so;  so  I 
didn't  get  up,  but  drew  him  to  a  seat  by  me  on  the 
sofa,  and  said  that  he  must  not  go  yet,  unless  he  had 
an  engagement,  for  that  I  had  not  half  done  telling 
him  what  I  wished,  and  rattled  on,  hardly  knowing 
what  I  did  say,  for  I  was  so  grieved  and  mortified. 
He  said  he  would  come  again,  as  it  was  my  tea- 
time,  but  I  insisted  that  my  tea  was  of  no  con>«e 
quence,  and  that  1  much  preferred  talking  to   » 


196  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

friend — all  the  while  hoping  that  either  cousin 
Maria  or  cousin  Charles  would  come  and  invite 
him  to  take  tea.  Presently  I  heard  cousin  Maria 
come  down,  and  then  the  glass  doors  were  closed 
between  the  rooms,  and  I  knew  they  were  at  tea. 
Why,  uncle  Hal,  papa  would  no  more  have 
done  such  a  thing  in  his  house^  than  he  would 
have  robbed  some  one !  What !  wound  the  feeling3 
of  any  one  for  fear  of  not  being  '  genteel  P  that's  the 
word,  I  suppose — I  hear  cousin  Maria  use  it  very 
often !  We  were  always  taught  by  dear  mamma, 
while  she  lived,  to  be  particularly  polite  and  atten- 
tive to  those  who  might  not  be  as  happy  or  prosper- 
ous as  ourselves.  She  used  to  say  that  fashionable 
and  distinguished  people  were  the  least  likely  to 
observe  those  things,  but  that  the  sensitive  and  self- 
distrustful  were  apt  to  be  almost  morbidly  alive  to 
every  indication  of  neglect.  *  !N'ever  brush  rudely 
by  the  human  sensitive- plant,  my  dears,'  she  used  to 
say,  '  lest  you  should  bruise  the  tender  leaves ;  and 
never  forget  that  it  most  needs  the  sunshine  of 
smiles  P  Dear  mamma !  she  used  to  be  so  polite  to 
Henry — not  patronizing,  but  so  friendly,  so  con- 
siderate— always  she  put  him  at  ease  when  there 
was  other  company  at  our  house  (though  he  never 
came  in  when  he  knew  there  were  other  visitors), 
and  she  used  to  do  so  many  kind  things  to  assist  his 
first  efforts  in  his  art !  I  only  hope  he  understood 
that  /have  no  rights  here.  I  am  sure  I  feel  that  I 
have  not !  But  I  would  rather  be  treated  a  hundred 
times  over  again  as  I  was  last  night,  myself,  than  to 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  197 

have  Henry's  feelings  wounded;  stjjjl,  I  must  say 
that  I  should  not  think,  because  she  happened  to  be 
detained  past  the  exact  tea-hour,  of  sending  away 
the  tea-things  and  keeping  cold  slops  in  a  pitcher  for 
any  guest  in  my  house,  if  I  had  one  " 

"  Hush,  Blanche  !  I  never  heard  you  talk  so  in- 
discreetly before !" 

"  Well,  I  don't  care !  Papa  made  me  come  here 
to  stay,  because  he  said  they  had  visited  us,  and 
came  out  to  Bel's  wedding,  and  all;  but  I  do  so 
wish  I  was  at  the  St.  Nicholas  with  you  and  the 
Clarks,  uncle,  dear !  Cousin  Charles  ain't  like  him- 
self since  he  married  his  fashionable  !N^ew  York 
wife ;  even  when  he  comes  to  pa's  he  isn't,  though 
there  he  throws  oif  his  cold,  ceremonious  manner 
somewhat.  But  I  really  feel  as  if  I  was  in  a  straight- 
jacket  here !"  , 

"  "Why,  Blanche,  what's  the  trouble  ?  I  am  sure 
everything  is  very  elegant  and  fashionable  here !" 

"  Yes,  too  elegant  and  fashionable  for  poor  little 
me !  I  am  not  used  to  that,  and  don't  care  for  it. 
I'd  rather  have  a  little  more  friendliness  and  socia- 
bility than  all  the  splendor.  I  am  constantly  re- 
minded of  my  utter  insignificance ;  and  you  know, 
uncle,  poor  Blanche  is  spoiled,  as  you  often  say,  and 
not  used  to  being  reduced  to  a  mere  nonentity !" 

With  this  the  silly  child  actually  began  to  cry, 
and  when  I  tried  to  soothe  her,  only  sobbed  out,  in 
broken  words :  "  I  wouldn't  be  such  a  goose  as  to 
mind  it,  if  Henry  Zousky  had  not  been  treated  so 
60,  so — so—fashrion-arbly  /" 


198 


LookiDg  over  some  letters  from  a  sprightly  corres- 
pondent of  mine,  the  other  day,  I  laid  aside  one  from 
•which  I  make  the  following  extract,  as  apposite  to 
my  subject : 

"  You  asked  me  to  give  you  some  account  of  the 
social  position,  etc.,  and  an  idea  of  the  husband  of 

jour  former  favorite,  M S .     '  What  is  Dr. 

J — —  like  V  you  inquire : — Like  nothing  in  heaven 
above,  or  in  the  earth  beneath,  I  answer ;  and,  there- 
fore, he  might  be  worshipped  without  a  violation  of 
the  injunction  of  the  Decalogue !  How  such  a  viva- 
cious creature  as  M S came  to  tie  herself 

for  life  to  such  a  mule,  passes  my  powers  of  solution. 

Dr.  J is  very  accom]:)lished  in  his  profession,  for 

a  young  man,  I  hear,  and  much  respected  for  his 
professional  capacity — but  socially  he  is — nothing/ 
— ^the  merest  cipher  conceivable !  A  man  may  be 
very  quiet  at  home,  now-a-days,  and  yet  pass  muster ; 
but  there  are  times  when  he  vnust  act^  as  it  seems  to 

me  ;  but  M 's  husband  seems  to  be  a  man  of  one 

idea^  and  that  never,  seemingly,  suggests  the  duties 
of  host.     But  you  shall  judge  for  yourself — While 

I  was  in  A ,  we   were   all  invited   there  one 

evening,  to  meet  a  bride,  an  old  friend  of  M 's, 

stopping  in  town  on  her  marriage  tour.     M 


said  it  was  too  early^  in  the  season  for  a  large  party, 
and  that  we  were  expected  quite  en  famille  /  but  it 
was,  in  reality,  quite  an  occasion,  nevertheless,  as 
the  bride  and  her  party  were  fashionable  Bostonians. 
I  happened  to  be  near  the  hostess,  when  the  guests 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  190 

of  the  evening  entered.  She  received  tliem  with 
her  usual  Frenchy  ease  and  playfulness  of  manner, 
and  it  seemed,  that  the  gentleman  was  an  old  friend 
of  hers,  but  did  not  know  her  husband.  He  ex- 
pressed the  hope  that  Dr.  J 's  professional  duties 

would  not  deprive  them  of  his  society  the  whole 
evening,  as  he  much  desired  the  pleasure  of  his 
acquaintance.      I  saw,  by  the  heightening  of  her 

color,  that  M ,  woman  of  the  world  though  she 

be,  felt  the  unintended  sarcasm  of  this  polite  lan- 
guage ;  for  Dr.  J.  was  calmly  ensconced  in  the  deep 
recess  of  a  large  fcmteuil  in  the  corner  of  the  fire* 
place,  apparently  enjoying  the  glowing  coal-fire 
that  always  adds  its  cheerful  influence  to  the  ele- 
gant belongings  of  M 's  splendid  drawing-room. 

Throughout  the  entire  evening  our  effigy  of  a  host 
kept  his  post,  where  we  found  him  on  entering. 
People  went  to  him,  chatted  a  while,  and  moved 
away ;  we  danced,  refreshments  were  served,  wine 
was  quaffed, 

"  '  All  went  merry  as  a  marriage-  bell ;' 

M glided  about  from  group  to  group,  with  an 

appropriate  word,  or  courteous  attention  for  each 
one,  and,  in  addition  to  the  flowers  that  adorned  the 
rooms,  presented  the  bride  of  her  old  friend  with  an 
exquisite  bouquet,  saying,  in  her  pretty  way,  that 
she  would  have  been  delighted  to  receive  her  in  a 

bower  of  roses,  when  she  learned  from  Mr. how 

much  she  liked  flowers,  but  that  Flora  was  in  a  pet 
with  Jier  since  she  had  given  up  her  old  conservatory 


200 


at  lier  father's.  As  the  evening  waned,  I  observed 
her  weariness,  despite  the  hospitable  smile  ;  and  well 
she  might  be !  Several  times  she  slipped  awav  to 
her  babe  ;  once,  when  I  stood  near  her,  she  started 
slightly :  "  I  thought  I  heard  a  nursery-cry ^^^  she 
whispered  to  me,  "  my  little  boy  is  not  well  to- 
night ;"  and  I  missed  her  soon  after.  When  I  went 
away,  I,  of  course,  sought  the  master  of  the  house 
to  say  good-night.  He  half  rose,  with  a  half  smile, 
in  recognition  of  my  adieu,  and  re-settled  himself, 
apparently  wholly  unconscious  of  any  possible  occa- 
sion for  further  effort !  But  the  climax,  in  true 
epic  style,  was  reserved  for  the  finale.  It  was  a 
frightfully  stormy  night,  and  when  we  came  down 

to  the  street  door  to  go  away,  there  stood  M ,  in 

her  thin  dress,  the  cold  wdnd  and  sleet-rain  rushing 
in  when  the  door  was  opened,  enough  to  carry  away 
her  fairy  figure,  seeing  off  her  friend  and  his  lyrideH 


**  My  dear  Miss  C ,"  exclaimed  a  gentleman; 

after  listening  to  the  complaint  of  a  lady  who  had 
just  been  charging  the  lords  of  creation  with  tlie 
habitual  discourtesy  of  retaining  their  hats  when 
speaking  to  ladies,  in  stores  and  shops,  as  well  as  in 
public  halls  and  even  in  the  drawing-room ;  "  My 

dear  Miss   C ,   don't  you  know  that   *  Young 

America '  al/ways  wea/rs  his  hat  and  hoots  whenever 
he  can  .^" 

"  Does  he  slee^  in  them  f "  inquired  the  lady. 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  201; 


"  Well,  my  dears,"  I  overheard  a  high-bred  and 
exceedingly  handsome  man  inquiring  of  two  lovely 
English  girls,  on  board  a  steamer  the  other  day, 
"how  did  you  succeed  in  your  efforts  to  dine  to-day? 
I  will  not  again  permit  you  to  be  separated  from 
your  aunt  and  me,  if  we  find  the  table  ever  so 
crowded." 

"  But  we  had  Charley,  you  know,  sir,"  returned 
one  of  the  fair  interlocutors,  with  a  smile  worthy  of 
Hebe  herself. 

"  True,  but  Charley  is  only  a  child  ;  and  boys  as 
well  as  women  fare  ill  at  public  tables  in  this  *  land 
of  liberty  and  equality,'  unless  aided  by  some  pow- 
erful assistant !" 

"I  thought  we  had  found  such  a  champion 
to-day,"  exclaimed  the  other  lady,  "  in  the  person 
wlio  sat  next  me  at  dinner.  His  hands  were  so  nice 
that  I  should  not  have  objected  in  the  least  to  his 
offering  me  such  dishes  as  were  within  his  reach, 
especially  as  there  seemed  to  be  no  servant  to  attend 
us,  and  we  really  sat  half  through  the  first  course 
without  bread  or  water.  Having  nothing  else  to  do, 
for  some  time,  I  quietly  amused  myself  with 
observing  my  courteous  neighbor.  So  wholly  ab- 
sorbed did  he  seem  in  his  own  contemplations,  so 
utterly  oblivious  of  everything  around  him,  except 
the  contents  of  his  heaped-up  plate,  that  I  soon 
became  convinced  that  I  had  the  honor  to  be  in 
close    proximity  to    a  philosopher,    at    least,  and 


202 


probably  to    some    fixed  star    in    the    realms  of 
science !" 

"  Oh,  Clare !  I  am  so  sorry  to  tell  you,  but  I 
learned  afterwards,  accidentally,  that  your  profound- 
looking  neighbor  is — a  dentist  /" 

"  And,  therefore,  accustomed  only  to  the  most 
painful  associations  with  the  mouths  of  others  P^ 
chimed  in  the  aristocrat,  laughing  in  chorus : 
"  "Well,  as  our  shrewd,  sensible  friend,  the  daughter 
of  the  Siddons,  used  to  say,  after  her  return  from 
America,  *  if  the  Americans  profess  to  be  all  equal^ 
they  should  be  equally  well  hred  P  " 

With  a  repetition  of  this  doubly  sarcastic   apo- 
thegm, my  dear  friends,  for  the  present, 
Adieu ! 

Hakry  Lunettes. 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION. 


LETTEE  YII. 


HEALTH,  THE  TOILET,  ETC. 


My  DEAR  Nephews  : 

Since  no  man  can  fulfill  his  destiny  as  an 
actively-useful  member  of  society  without  Healthy 
perhaps  a  few  practical  suggestions  on  this  impor- 
tant subject  may  not  be  inconsistent  with  our  present 
purpose. 

The  only  reliable  foundation  upon  which  to  base 
the  hope  of  securing  permanent  possession  of  this 
greatest  of  earthly  blessings,  is  the  early  acquisition 
of  Habits  of  Temperance. 

In  a  proper  sense  of  the  word.  Temperance  is  an 
all-inclusive  term — it  does  not  mean  abstaining  from 
strong  drink,  only,  nor  from  over-eating,  nor  from 
any  one  form  of  self-indulgence  or  dissipation ;  but 
it  requires  moderation  in  all  things^  for  its  full 
illustration. 

It  was  this  apprehension  of  the  term  that  was 
truthfully  exhibited  in  the  long,  useful,  consistent 
life  of  our  distinguished  countryman,  John  Quincy 
Adams.     Habits  formed  in  boyhood,  in  strict  accord 


204 


ance  with  tins  principle,  and  adhered  to  in  every 
varying  phase  of  circumstance  throughout  his  pro- 
longed existence,  were  the  proximate  cause  of  his 
successful  and  admirable  career.  And  what  a  ca- 
reer! How  triumphantly  successful,  how  worthy  of 
admiration!  More  than  half  a  century  did  he 
serve  his  country,  at  home  and  abroad,  dying 
at  last,  with  his  armor  on, — a  watchman,  faithful, 
even  unto  death,  upon  the  ramparts  of  the  Citadel, 
where  Justice,  Truth,  and  Freedom  have  found  a  last 
asylum.  Think  you  that  the  intellectual  and  moral 
purposes  of  his  being  could  have  been  borne  out 
by  the  most  resolute  exercise  of  will,  but  for  the 
judicious  training  of  the  physique  f  Or  could  the 
higher  attributes  of  his  nature  have  b^en  developed, 
indeed,  in  conjunction  with  a  body  ^cabined,  cribbed 
and  confined' by  the  enervating  influence  of  youthful 
Belf-indulgence  ?     Born  on — 

"  Stern  New-England's  rocky  shore,'* 

no  misnamed  luxury  shrouded  his  frame  from  the 
discipline  of  that  Teacher,  "  around  whose  steps  the 
mountain  breezes  blow,  and  from  whose  countenance 
all  the  virtues  gather  strength."  You  are,  doubtless, 
all  familiar  with  Mr.  Adams'  habits  of  early  rising, 
bathing,  etc.  The  latter,  even,  he  maintained  until 
within  two  years  of  his  death,  bathing  in  an  open 
stream  each  morning,  if  his  locality  permitted  the 
enjoyment,  at  a  very  early  hour.  I  have  his  own 
authority  for  the  fact  that  he,  during  the  differ- 
ent periods  of  his  public  sojourn  abroad,  laved  his 


TO   rOLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  205 

vigorous  frame  in  almost  every  river  of  Europe! 
Franklin,  too,  ascribed  his  triumph  over  the  obstacles 
that  obstructed  his  early  path  to  a  strict  adherence 
to  the  rules  of  Temperance.  And  so,  indeed,  with 
most  of  the  truly  great  men  whose  names  illumine 
the  pages  of  our  country's  history : — I  might  multi- 
ply examples  almost  ad  infinitum^  but  your  own 
reading  will  enable  you  to  endorse  the  correctness  of 
my  assertion. 

Since  we  have,  incidentally,  alluded  to  the  Bath^  in 
connection  with  the  example  of  Mr.  Adams,  let  us 
commence  the  consideration  of  personal  habits,  with 
this  agreeable  and  essential  accessory  of  Health. 

Though  authorities  may  differ  respecting  somo 
minor  details  with  regard  to  bathing,  I  believe  medi- 
cal testimony  all  goes  to  sanction  its  adoption  by 
all  persons,  in  some  one  of  its  modifications.  Con- 
stitutional peculiarities  should  always  be  consulted 
in  the  establishment  of  individual  rules, — hence  no 
general  directions  can  be  made  applicable  to  all  per- 
sons. The  cold  bath,  though  that  most  frequently 
adopted  by  persons  in  health,  is,  no  doubt,  injurious 
in  some  cases,  and  careful  observation  alone  can 
enable  each  individual  to  establish  the  precise  tem- 
perature at  which  his  ablutions  will  be  most  bene- 
ficial. 

But,  while  the  most  scrupulous  and  unvary- 
ing regard  for  cleanliness  should  be  considered  of 
primary  importance,  the  indiscreet  use  of  the  bath 
should  be  avoided  with  equal  care.  Bishop  Heber, 
one  of  the  best  and  most  useful  of  men,  sacrificed 


206 


Idmself  in  the  midst  of  a  career  of  eminent  piety,  to 
an  imprudent  use  of  this  luxury,  arising  either  from 
igaorance  or  inadvertency.  After  rising  very  early 
ta  baptize  several  native  converts  recently  made  in 
India,  the  field  of  his  labors,  he  returned  to  his  bun- 
galow in  a  state  of  exhaustion  from  excitement  and 
abstinence,  and,  without  taking  any  nourishment, 
threw  himself  into  a  bath,  and  soon  after  expired ! — 
lS[o  one  can  safely  resort  to  the  bath  when  the  bodily 
powers  are  much  weakened,  by  whatever  cause; 
and  though  it  is  mi  wise  to  use  it  directly  after  taking 
a  full  meal,  it  should  not  immediately  precede  the 
chief  meal  of  the  day,  if  that  be  taken  at  a  late  hour, 
and  after  prolonged  abstinence  and  exertion. 

The  art  of  swimming  early  acquired,  affords  the 
most  agreeable  and  beneficial  mode  of  bathing,  not 
to  dwell  upon  its  numerous  recommendations  in  other 
respects ;  but  when  this  enjoyment  cannot  be  secured, 
nor  even  the  luxury  of  an  immersion  bath,  luckily  for 
health,  comfort,  and  propriety,  the  means  of  sponge 
hathing  may  always  be  secured,  at  least  in  this 
country  (wherever  it  has  risen  above  barbarism), 
though  I  must  say  that  frequently  during  my  travels 
in  England,  and  even  through  towns  boasting  good 
hotels,  I  found  water  and  towels  at  a  high  premium, 
and  very  difficult  of  acquisition  at  that  I  Sponging 
the  whole  person  upon  rising,  either  in  cold  or  tepid 
water,  as  individual  experience  proves  best,  with  the 
use  of  the  Turkish  towel,  or  some  similar  mode  of 
friction,  is  one  of  the  best  preparations  for  a  day  of 
useful  exertion. 


rO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  207 

This  practice  has  collateral  advantages,  inasmuch 
as  it  naturally  leads  to  attention  to  all  the  details  of 
the  toilet  essentially  connected  with  refinement  and 
health — to  proper  care  of  the  Hair,  Teeth,  Nails,  etc., 
— in  short,  to  a  neat  and  suitable  arrangement  of  the 
dress  before  leaving  one's  apartment  in  the  morning. 
To  slippered  age  belongs  the  indulgence  of  a  careless 
morning  toilet ;  but  with  the  morning  of  life  we  pro- 
perly associate  readiness  for  action  in  some  pursuit 
demanding  steady  and  prolonged  exertion,  early 
begun,  and  with  every  faculty  and  attribute  in  full 
exercise. 

Fashion  sanctions  so  many  varying  modes  of  wear- 
ing or  not  wearing  the  hair^  that  no  directions  can  be 
given  in  relation  to  it,  except  such  as  enjoin  the  avoid- 
ance of  all  fantastic  dressing,  and  the  observance  of 
entire  neatness  with  relation  to  it.  Careful  brushing, 
together  with  occasional  ablutions,  will  best  preserve 
this  natural  ornament ;  and  I  would,  also,  suggest  the 
use  of  such  jpomades  only  as  are  most  delicately 
scented.  No  gentleman  should  go  about  like  a 
walking  perfumer's  shop,  redolent,  not  of — 

*'  Sabean  odors  from  the  spicy  shores 
Of  Araby  the  Blest," 

but  of  spirits  of  turpentine,  musk,  etc.,  *  commixed 
and  commingled '  in  '  confusion  worse  confounded ' 
to  all  persons  possessed  of  a  nicety  of  nervous  organ- 
ization. All  perfumes  for  the  handkerchiefs,  or  worn 
about  the  person,  should  be,  not  only  of  the  most 
unexceptionable  kind,  but  used  in  very  moderate 


quantities.  Their  profuse  use  will  ill  supply  the 
neglect  of  the  bath,  or  of  the  proper  care  of  the  teeth 
and  general  toilet. 

The  Teeth  cannot  be  too  carefully  attended  to  by 
those  who  value  good  looks,  as  well  as  health.  And 
nothing  tends  more  towards  their  preservation  than 
the  habitual  use  of  the  brush,  before  retiring,  as  well 
as  in  the  morning.  The  use  of  some  simple  uninju- 
rious  adjunct  to  the  brush  maybe  well;  but  pare 
water  and  the  brush,  faithfully  applied,  will  secure 
cleanliness — the  great  preservative  of  these  essential 
concomitants  of  manly  beauty.  If  you  use  tobacco 
— (and  I  fervently  hope  none  of  you  who  have  not 
the  habit  will  ever  allow  yourselves  to  acquire  it !) 
— ^but  if  you  are,  unfortunately,  enslaved  by  the 
habit,  never  omit  to  rinse  the  mouth  thoroughly 
after  smoking  (I  will  not  admit  the  possibility,  that 
any  young  man,  in  this  age  of  progressive  refinement, 
is  addicted  to  habitual  chewing),  and  never  substi- 
tute the  use  of  a  strong  odor  for  this  proper  observ- 
ance, especially  when  going  into  the  society  of 
ladies.  Smoke  dispellers  must  yield  the  palm  to  the 
purifying  effects  of  the  unadulterated  element,  after 
all. 

The  utmost  nicety  in  the  care  of  the  I/'ails,  is  an 
indispensable  part  of  a  gentleman's  toilet.  They 
should  be  kept  of  a  moderate  length,  as  well  as  clean 
and  smooth.  Avoid  all  absurd  forms,  and  inconve- 
nient length,  in  cutting  them,  which  you  will  find  it 
easiest  to  do  neatly  while  they  are  softened  by  wash- 
ing, and  the  use  of  the  nail-brush. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  209 

Properly  fitted  "boots  and  shoes,  together  with  fre- 
quent bathing,  will  best  secure  the  feet  from  the 
torturing  excrescences  by  which  poor  mortals  are 
BO  often  afflicted.  The  addition  of  salt  to  the  foot- 
bath, if  persevered  in,  will  greatly  protect  them  from 
the  painful  effects  of  over-walking,  etc. 

I  think  that  under  the  head  of  Dress,  in  one  of  my 
earliest  letters,  I  expressed  my  opinion  regarding 
the  essentials  of  refinement  and  comfort  as  con- 
nected with  this  branch  of  the  toilet.  I  will  only 
say,  in  this  connection,  that  a  liberal  supply  of  linen, 
hosiery,  etc.,  should  be  regarded  as  of  more  impor- 
tance than  outside  display,  and  that  the  most  en- 
lightened economy  suggests  the  employment  of 
the  best  materials,  the  most  skillful  manufacturers, 
and  the  unrestrained  use  of  these  "  aids  and  appli  • 
ances"  of  gentleman-like  propriety,  comfort,  and 
health. 

The  best  and  surest  mode  of  securing  ample  and 
certain  leisure  for  needful  attention  to  the  minutiae  of 
the  toilet  is  Early  Rising^  a  habit  that,  in  addition  to 
the  healthful  influence  it  exerts  upon  the  physique, 
collaterally,  promotes  the  minor  moralities  of  life  in 
a  wonderful  degree,  and  really  is  one  of  the  funda- 
mentals of  success  in  whatever  pursuit  you  may  be 
engaged.  Here,  again,  permit  me  to  refer  you  to 
the  examples  of  the  truly  great  men  of  history — those 
of  our  own  land  will  suffice — ^Washington,  Frank* 
lin,  Adams,  and,  though  inconsistent  with  his  habits 
in  some  other  respects,  Webster.  Of  the  latter,  it  is 
well  known,  that  he  did  not  trim  the  midnight  lamp 


for  purposes  of  professional  investigation  or  mental 
labor  of  any  kind,  but  rose  early  to  such  tasks,  witn 
body  and  mind  invigorated  for  ready  and  successful 
exertion.  I  have  seen  few  things  from  his  powerful 
pen,  more  pleasingly  written  than  his  Eulogy  upon 
Morning^  as  it  may  properly  be  called,  though  1 
don't  know  that  to  be  the  title  of  an  article  written 
by  him  in  favor  of  our  present  theme,  in  which 
erudition  and  pure  taste  contend  for  supremacy  with 
convincing  argument. 

But  to  secure  the  full  benefit  of  early  rising^  my 
young  friends,  you  must  also,  establish  the  habit  of 
retiring  ea/rly  and  regularly.  ]^o  one  dogma  of 
medical  science,  perhaps,  is  more  fully  borne  out  by 
universal  experience  than  this,  that  "two  hours' 
sleep  before  midnight  is  worth  all  obtained  after- 
wards." To  seek  repose  before  the  system  is 
too  far  over-taxed  for  quiet,  refreshing  rest,  and 
before  the  brain  has  been  aroused  from  the  qui- 
escence natural  to  the  evening  hours,  into  renewed 
and  unhealthy  action,  is  most  consistent  with  the 
laws  of  health.  And,  depend  upon  it,  though  the 
elasticity  of  youthful  constitutions  may,  for  a  time, 
resist  the  pernicious  effects  of  a  violation  of  these 
laws,  the  hour  will  assuredly  come,  sooner  or  later,  to 
all,  when  the  lex  taZionis  will  be  felt  in  resistless 
power.  Fashion  and  Kature  are  sadly  at  war  on  this 
point,  as  I  am  fully  aware;  but  the  edicts  of  the  one 
are  immutable,  those  of  the  other  are  proverbially 
fickle. 

Students,  especially,  should  regard  obedience  to 


TO   POLITENE88   AND  FASHION.  211 

the  wiser  of  the  two  as  imperative.  The  mental 
powers,  as  well  as  the  physical,  demand  this — the 
^'mind's  eye^^  as  well  as  the  organs  of  outward  vision, 
will  be  found,  bj  experiment,  to  possess  the  clearer 
and  quicker  discernment  during  those  hours  when, 
throughout  the  domains  of  Nature,  all  is  activity, 
healthfulness  and  visible  beauty.  And  no  pecu- 
liarity of  circumstance  or  inclination  will  ever  make 
that  healthful  which  is  unnatural.  Hence  the  wis- 
dom of  establishing  habits  consistent  with  health, 
while  no  obstacle  exists  to  their  easy  acquisition. 
There  is  an  experiment  on  record  made  by  two 
generals,  each  at  the  head  of  an  army  on  march,  in 
warm  weather,  over  the  same  route.  The  one  led 
on  his  troops  by  day,  the  other  chose  the  cooler 
hours  for  advancing,  and  reposed  while  the  sun  was 
abroad.  In  all  other  respects,  their  arrangements 
were  similar.  At  the  end  of  ten  or  twelve  days,  the 
result  convincingly  proved  that  exertion  even  under 
mid-summer  heat  is  most  healthfully  made  while  the 
stimulus  of  solar  light  sustains  the  system,  and  that 
sleep  is  most  refreshing  and  beneficial  in  all  respects 
when  sought  while  the  hush  and  obscurity  of  the 
outer  world  assist  repose. 
But  if,  as  the  nursery  doggerel  wisely  declares, 

"  Early  to  bed  and  early  to  rise, 
Makes  a  man  healthy,  wealthy,  and  wise," 

there  must  be  united  with  this  rational  habit,  others 
each  equally  important  to  the  full  advantage  to  be 
derived  from  all  combined. 


212  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN^S  GUIDE 

Among  these,  Exercise  holds  a  prominent  rank 
As  with  the  bath,  this  is  most  effectually  employed 
for  health  before  the  system  is  exhausted  by  mental 
labor. 

Among  the  numerous  modes  of  exercise,  none  is  so 
completely  at  command  at  all  times  and  under  all 
circumstances,  as  walking.  But  the  full  benefit  of 
this  exercise,  is  not  often  enjoyed  by  the  inhabitants 
of  cities,  by  reason  of  the  impure  air  that  is  almost 
necessarily  inhaled  in  connection  with  it.  Still,  it  is 
not  impossible  to  obviate  this  difficulty  by  a  little 
pains.  The  early  riser  and  the  rapid  pedestrian  may 
in  general,  easily  secure  time  to  seek  daily  one  of 
the  few  and  limited  breathing-places  that,  though  in 
this  regard  we  are  vastly  inferior  to  Europeans  in  taste 
and  good  sense,  even  our  American  cities  supply, 
either,  like  what  they  indeed  are,  hings^  in  the  very 
centre  of  activity,  or  at  no  unapproachable  distance 
from  it.  Do  not  forget  that  vegetation,  while  it 
sends  forth  noxious  influences  at  night,  exales  oxy- 
gen and  other  needful  food  for  vitality,  m  the 
inorning,  especially ;  nor  that  an  erect  carriage, 
which  alone  gives  unobstructed  play  to  the  organs  of 
respiration  and  digestion,  is  requisite,  together  with 
considerable  activity  of  movement,  to  secure  the 
legitimate  results  of  walking. 

Students,  and  others  whose  occupations  are  of  a 
sedentary  character,  sometimes  adopt  the  practice 
of  taking  a  long  walk  periodically.  This  is,  no 
doubt,  promotive  of  health,  provided  it  is  not  at  first 
carried  to  an  extreme.     All  such  habits  should  bo 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  213 

gradually  formed,  and  their  formation  commenced 
and  pursued  with  due  respect  for  physiological  rules. 
Mr.  Combe,  the  distinguished  phrenologist — in  his 
"  Constitution  of  Man,"  I  think,  relates  an  instance 
of  a  young  person,  in  infirm  health  and  unaccustom- 
ed to  such  exertion,  who  undertook  a  walk  of  twenty 
miles,  to  be  accomplished  without  interruption. 
Tlie  first  seven  or  eight  miles  were  achieved  with 
ease  and  pleasure  to  the  pedestrian,  but  thenceforth 
discomfort  and  final  exhaustion  should  have  been  a 
sufficient  warning  to  the  tyro  to  desist  from  his  self- 
appointed  task.  A  severe  illness  was  the  conse- 
quence and  punishment  of  his  ignorant  violation  of 
physiological  laws. 

By  the  way,  I  cannot  too  strongly  recommend  to 
your  careful  perusal  the  various  works  of  Dr.  Andrew 
Combe,  long  the  physician  of  the  amiable  King  of 
Belgium,  in  relation  to  that  and  kindred  subjects. 
His  "  Physiology  as  applied  to  Mental  Health,"  is 
replete  with  practical  suggestions  and  advice  of  the 
most  instructive  and  important  nature,  as  are  also 
his  "  Dietetics,"  etc. 

Himself  an  incurable  invalid,  he  maintained  the 
vital  forces  through  many  years  of  eminent  useful- 
ness to  others,  only  by  dint  of  the  most  strenuous 
adherence  to  the  strictest  requirements  of  the  Science 
of  the  Physique.  The  writings  of  his  brother,  Mi\ 
George  Combe,  and  especially  the  work  I  have  just 
mentioned,  the  "  Constitution  of  Man,"  also  abound 
in  lessons  of  practical  usefulness,  which  may  be 
adopted  irrespective  of  his  peculiar  phrenological 


214:  THE  AMEEICAK  GENTLEMAn's   GUmK 

views.  In  the  multitude  of  newer  publications  these 
admirable  books  are  already  half-forgotten,  but  my 
limited  reading  has  afforded  me  no  knowledge  of 
anything  superior  to  them,  as  text- books  for  the 
young. 

Hiding  and  driving  need  no  recommendation  to 
insure  their  popularity,  as  means  of  exercise.  Both 
have  many  pleasure  and  health-giving  attractions. 

Every  young  man  should  endeavor  to  acquire  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  both  riding  and  driving,  not 
from  a  desire  to  emulate  the  ignoble  achievments  of 
a  horse-jockey,  but  as  proper  accomplishments  for  a 
gentleman. 

The  possession  of  a  fine  horse  is  a  prolific  source 
of  high  and  innocent  enjoyment,  and  may  often  be 
secured  by  those  whose  purses  are  not  taxed  for 
cigars  and  wine  !  Nothing  can  be  more  exhilarating 
than  the  successful  management  of  this  spirited  and 
generous  animal,  whether  under  the  saddle  or  in  har- 
ness !  Even  plethoric,  ponderous  old  Dr.  Johnson, 
admitted  that  "  few  things  are  so  exciting  as  to  be 
drawn  rapidly  along  in  a  post-chaise,  over  a  smooth 
road,  by  a  fine  horse !" 

Let  me  repeat,  however,  that  young  men  should 
be  content  to  promote  health  and  enjoyment  by  the 
moderate,  gentleman-like  gratification  of  the  pride 
of  skill,  in  this  respect.  Like  many  other  amuse- 
ments, though  entirely  innocent  and  unexcep- 
tionable when  reasonably  indulged  in,  its  abuse 
leads  inevitably  to  the  most  debasing  consequences. 
— Our  dusty  high-roads  very  ill  supply  the  place  of 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  215 

the  extensive  public  Parks  and  gardens  that  furnish 
such  agreeable  places  of  resort  for  both  riding  and 
driving,  as  well  as  for  j)ede6trians,  in  most  of  the  large 
cities  of  Europe,  but  one  may,  at  least,  secure  better 
air  and  more  freedom  of  space  by  resorting  to  them 
than  to  the  streets,  for  every  form  of  exercise.  And 
as  it  is  a  well  established  fact  that  agreeable  and 
novel  associations  for  both  the  eye  and  the  mind  are 
essential  concomitants  of  beneficial  exercise,  we  have 
every  practical  consideration  united  to  good  taste  in 
favor  of  eschewing  the  streets  whenever  fate  per- 
mits. 

**  Oh !  how  canst  thou  renounce  the  boundless  store 
Of  charms  which  Nature  to  her  votaries  yields, — 
The  warbling  woodland,  the  resounding  shore, 
The  pomp  of  groves  and  garniture  of  fields ; 
All  that  the  genial  ray  of  morning  gilds, 
And  all  that  echoes  to  the  song  of  even. 
All  that  the  mountain's  sheltering  bosom  shields. 
And  all  the  dread  magnificence  of  Heaven  ; — 
0 !  how  canst  thou  renounce  and  hope  to  be  forgiven !" 

Beattik 

Eating  and  drinking  are  too  closely  connected 
with  our  general  subject  of  health,  to  be  forgotten 
here. 

That  regard  for  Temperance  which  I  have  endea- 
vored to  commend  to  you,  of  course  yields  a  promi- 
nent place  to  habits  in  these  respects. 

In  relation  to  eating^  I  strongly  recommend  the 
cultivation  of  sinvple  tastes^  and  the  careful  avoid- 
ance of  every  indulgence  tending  towards  sensuality 


216  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUmE 

Some  knowledge  of  Dietetics  is  essential  to  the  adop- 
tion of  right  opinions  and  practice  on  this  point. 
For  instance,  no  man  should  wait  for  dire  experience 
to  enforce  the  truths  that  roast  and  broiled  meats 
possess  the  most  nutritious  qualities ;  that  all  fried 
dishes  are,  necessarily,  more  or  less  unwholesome ; 
that  animal  oils  and  fatty  substances  require  stronger 
digestive  force  for  their  assimilation  than  persons  of 
sedentary  life  usually  possess  ;  that  warm  bread,  as  a 
rule,  is  unsuited  to  the  human  stomach,  etc.,  etc. 
[No  one  should  consider  these  matters  unworthy  of 
eerious  attention,  though  temporarily  free  from  incon- 
venience arising  from  neglecting  them.  Eventually, 
every  human  constitution  will  exhibit  painful  proofs 
of  all  outrages  committed  upon  the  laws  by  which 
its  operations  are  governed ;  and  the  greater  the 
license  permitted  in  youth,  the  severer  will  be  the 
penalty  exacted  in  after  years. 


"  Mind  and  Body  are  so  close  combined, 

Where  Health  of  Body,  Health  of  Mind  you  find." 

Pieserve,  then,  as  you  value  the  means  of  useful- 
ness, the  perfect  play  of  your  mental  powers — so 
easily  trammelled  by  the  clogging  of  the  machinery 
of  the  body — the  unadulterated  taste  that  is  content 
with  a  sufficiency  of  wholesome,  well-cooked  food  to 
satisfy  the  demands  of  healthful  appetite.  Cultivate 
no  love  of  condiments,  sauces  and  stimulants ;  indulge 
no  ambition  to  excel  in  dressing  salads,  classifying 
ragouts^  or  in  demonstrating,  down  to  the  nicety  of 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  217 

a  single  ingredient,  the  distinction  between  a  home- 
made and  an  imported  pate  de  foie  grds!  Distinc- 
tions such  as  these  may  suffice  for  the  worn-out 
society  of  a  corrupt  civilization,  but  our  countrymen 
• — ^MEN — should  shout  Excelsior  ! 

Abstract  rules  in  relations  to  the  houi*s  proper  for 
taking  meals,  however  carefully  adapted  to  the  secu- 
rity of  health,  in  themselves  considered,  must,  of 
necessity,  give  place  to  those  artificially  imposed  by 
custom  and  convenience.  Thus,  though  the  practice 
of  dining  late  is  not  sanctioned  by  Ilygeia,  it  admits 
of  question,  whether,  as  the  usages  of  the  business- 
world  at  present  exists,  it  is  not  a  wiser  custom  than 
aiiy  other  permitted  by  circumstance. 

All  who  have  given  any  attention  to  the  sub- 
ject know,  that  neither  bodily  nor  mental  labor 
can  be  either  comfortably  or  successfully  pursued 
directly  after  a  full  meal.  Hence,  then,  those  whose 
occupations  require  their  attention  during  several 
successive  hours,  may  find  the  habit  of  dining  after 
the  more  imperative  labore  of  the  day  are  accom- 
plished, most  conducive  to  health  as  well  as  con- 
venience. 

Still,  it  should  not  be  forgotten,  that  long  absti- 
nence  is  likely  to  produce  the  exhaustion  that  tella 
so  surely  and  seriously  upon  the  constitution,  of 
young  persons  especially.  This  may  be  prevented 
by  taking,  systematically,  a  little  light,  simple 
nutriment,  sufficient  to  produce  what  is  aptly 
termed  the  stimylua  of  distention  in  that  much 


10 


218  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's    GUIDE 

abused  organ — the  stomach.  This  practice  regularly 
adhered  to,  will  also  promote  a  collateral  advantage, 
by  acting  as  a  security  against  the  too  keen  sharp- 
ening of  appetite  that  tends  to  repletion  in  eating, 
and  which  sometimes  produces  results  similar  to 
those  exhibited  by  a  boa- constrictor  after  dining 
upon  a  whole  buffalo,  swallowed  without  the  pre- 
vious ceremony  of  carving !  One  should  never  dine 
so  heartily  as  to  be  unfitted  for  the  subsequent 
enjoyment  of  society,  or  of  the  lighter  pursuits  of 
literature.  Deliberate  and  thorough  mastication  will 
more  beneficially,  and  quite  as  pleasurably,  prolong 
the  enjoyments  of  the  table,  as  a  more  hurried 
disposal  of  a  large  quantity  of  food.  And  really  I 
do  not  know  how  the  most  rigid  economist  of  time, 
or  the  most  self-sacrificing  devotee  either  of  Mam- 
mon or  of  Literature,  can  more  judiciously  devote 
an  hour  of  each  day  than  to  the  single  purpose  of 
dining  ! 

Happily  for  those  whose  self-respect  does  not 
always  furnish  the  sustaining  power  requisite  for 
the  maintenance  of  a  principle,  fashion  no  longer 
requires  of  any  man  the  use  of  even  wine^  much 
less  of  stronger  beverages.  And  with  reference  to 
the  use  of  all  alcoholic  stimulants,  as  well  as  of 
tobacco,  I  would  remind  you  that  those  only  who  are 
not  enslaved  hy  ajppetite,  are  fkee!  If  you  have 
acquired  a  liking  for  wine  or  tobacco,  and  would 
abjure  either,  or  both,  you  will  soon  be  convinced, 
by  experiment,  of  the  truth  of  Dr.  Johnson's  sayingi 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  219. 

cf  which,  by  the  way,  liis  own  life  furnished  a 
striking  illustration,  that  "  abstinence  is  easier  than 
temperance.''^ 

To  prolong  arguments  against  the  habits  of  smok- 
ing and  drinking,  were  a  work  of  supererogation, 
here.  I  will  advance  but  one,  which  may,  possibly, 
possess  the  merit  of  novelty.  Both  have  the  effect, 
materially  to  limit  our  enjoyment  of  the  presence 
and  conversation  of 

"Heaven's  last,  best  gift  to  man  I" 

I  cannot  better  dismiss  this  important  topic  than 
by  quoting  the  following  passage  from  the  writings 
of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh : 

"  Except  tliou  desire  to  hasten  thy  end,  take  this 
for  a  general  rule — that  thou  never  add  any  artifi- 
cial heat  to  thy  body  by  wine  or  spice,  until  thou 
find  that  time  hath  decayed  thy  natural  heat;  the 
sooner  thou  dost  begin  to  help  nature  the  sooner  she 
will  forsake  thee,  and  leave  thee  to  trust  altogether 
to  art." 

In  my  youth,  advice  to  young  men  was  constantly 
commingled — whatever  its  general  tenor — with  ad- 
monitions regarding  the  necessity  for  industry  and 
perseverance  in  those  who  would  achieve  worldly 
success.  In  these  utilitarian  times,  when  all  seem 
borne  along  upon  a  resistless  current,  hurrying  to 
the  attainment  of  some  practical  end,  engrossed  by 
schemes  of  political  ambition,  or  devoted  to  the 
acquisition  of .  wealth,  a  quiet  looker-on — as  I  am 
wont    to    regard    myself — is    tempted    to    counsel 


THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN  S   GUIDE 

"moderation  in  all  things,"  contentment  with  the 
legitimate  results  of  honorable  effort,  the  cultivation 
of  habits  of  daily  relaxation  from  the  severity  of 
toil,  of  daily  rest  from  the  mental  tension  that  is 
demanded  for  successful  competition  in  the  arena  of 
life. 

Tlie  impression  that  sleejp  is  a  sufficient  restorative 
from  the  wearing  effects  of  otherwise  ceaseless  labor, 
or  that  change  of  occujpation  furnishes  all  the  relief 
that  nature  requires  in  this  respect,  is,  undoubtedly, 
erroneous.  "  The  man,"  says  an  eminent  student  of 
humanity,  "  who  does  not  now  allow  himself  two 
hours  for  relaxation  after  dinner,  will  be  compelled 
to  devote  more  time  than  that  daily  to  the  care  of 
his  health,  eventually." 

To  allow  one's  self  to  be  so  engrossed  by  any 
pursuit,  however  laudable  in  itself,  as  to  reserve  no 
leisure  for  the  claims  of  Society,  of  Friendship,  of 
Taste,  is  so  irrational  as  to  need  nothing  but  reflec- 
tion to  render  it  apparent.  In  a  merely  utilitarian 
view,  it  is  unwise,  since,  as  u:Esop  has  demonstrated, 
the  bow  that  is  never  unbent  soon  ceases  to  be  fit 
for  use ;  but  there  is,  surely,  a  higher  consideration, 
addressed  to  the  reason  of  man.  Pope  embodies  it, 
in  part,  in  the  lines 

"  God  is  paid  when  man  receives, 

To  enjoy  is  to  obey  /" 

To  ha've  an  aim,  a  purpose  in  life,  sufficiently  en- 
grossing to  act  as  an  incentive  to  the  exercise  of  all 
the  powers  of  being,  is  essential  to  heath  and  happi- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  221 

ness.  But  to  pursue  any  one  object  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  all  considerations  for  self-culture  and  intel- 
lectual enjoyment,  is  destructive  of  everything 
worthy  that  name. 

They  who  devote  all  the  exertions  of  youth  and 
manhood  to  the  acquisition  of  political  distinction,  or 
of  gold,  for  instance — cherishing,  meanwhile,  a  sort 
of  Arcadian  dream  of  ultimately  enjoying  the  plea- 
sures of  intellectual  communion,  or  the  charms  of 
the  natural  world,  when  the  heat  and  burden  of  the 
conflict  of  life  shall  be  done — exhibit  a  most  deplora- 
ble ignorance  of  the  truth  that  they  will  possess  in 
age  only  the  crippled  capacities  that  disuse  has 
almost  wholly  robbed  of  vitality,  together  with  such 
as  are  prematurely  worn  out  by  being  habitually 
overtaxed. 

On  the  contrary,  those  who  believe  that 

"  It  is  not  all  of  Ufe  to  live," 

and  early  establish  a  true  standard  of  excellence,  and 
acquaint  themselves  with  the  immutable  laws  of  our 
being,  will  so  commingle  self-ennobling  pursuits  and 
enjoyments  with  industrious  and  well-directed  atten- 
tion to  the  needful  demands  of  practical  life,  as  to 
secure  as  much  of  ever-present  happiness  as  falls  to 
the  lot  of  humanity,  together  with  the  enviable 
retrospection  of  an  exalted  ambition,  rightly  fulfilled. 
They  may  also  hope  for  the  invaluable  possession  of 
intellectual  and  moral  developments  to  be  matured 
in  that  state  of  existence  of  which  this  is  but  the 
embryo.    These  are  truisms,  I  admit,  my  young 


222  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

friends,  yet  the  spirit  of  the  age  impels  their  itera- 
tion and  re-iteration ! 

Burke's  musical  periods  lamented  the  departure 
of  the  "  age  of  chivalry."  Would  that  one  gifted  as 
he  may  revive  the  waning  existence  of  the  social 
and  domestic  virtues,  and  inspire  my  young  coun- 
trymen with  an  ambition  too  lofty  in  its  aspirations 
to  permit  the  sacrifice  of  mental  and  moral  powers, 
of  natural  affections,  and  immortal  aspirations,  upon 
the  altars  of  Mammon  ! — shrines  now  yearly  receiv- 
ing from  our  country  a  holocaust  of  sacrifices,  to 
■jvhich  battle-fields  are  as  naught  in  comparison. 

But  to  return  from  this  unpremeditated  digression. 
Katural  tastes  and  individual  circumstances  must, 
to  a  considerable  extent,  determine  the  relaxations 
and  amusements  most  conducive  to  enjoyment  and 
liealth. 

You  will  scarcely  need  to  be  told  that  persons  of 
sedentary  habits,  and  especially  those  devoted  to 
literary  occupations,  should  make  exercise  in  the 
cypen  air  a  daily  recreation,  and  that  it  will  best 
subserve  the  purposes  of  pleasure  and  health  when 
united  with  the  advantages  arising  from  cheerful 
coTTvpanionship. 

Hence  the  superiority  of  walking,  riding,  driving, 
boating,  and  sporting  in  its  various  forms,  to  all  in- 
door exercises  and  amusements — and  especially  to 
those  tending  rather  to  tax  the  brain  than  exercise 
the  body — for  those  whose  mental  powers  are  most 
taxed  by  their  avocations. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  223 

On  tlie  other  hand,  there  are  those  to  whom  the 
Hghter  investigations  of  literature  and  science  afford 
the  most  appropriate  relief  from  the  toils  of  business. 

Permit  me,  however,  to  enter  my  protest  against 
the  belief  that  a  change  from  the  labors  and  duties 
of  city  life  to  the  close  sleeping-rooms,  the  artificial- 
ity and  excitement  of  a  fashionable  watering-place 
affords  a  proper  and  healthful  relief  to  a  weary  body 
and  an  overwrought  brain.  Life  at  a  watering- 
place  is  no  more  an  equivalent  for  the  pure  air,  the 
simple  habits,  the  wholesome  food,  the  repose  of 
mind  and  hearty  afforded  by  unadulterated  country 
life,  than  immersion  in  a  bathing-tub  is  a  satisfac- 
tory substitute  for  swimming  in  a  living  stream,  or 
a  contemplation  of  the  most  exquisite  picture  of 
rural  scenes,  for  a  glorious  canter  amid  green  fields 
and  over  breezy  hills !  !N"or  will  dancing  half  the 
night  in  heated  rooms,  late  suppers,  bowling-alleye 
and  billiards,  not  to  speak  of  still  more  objectionable 
indulgences,  restore  these  devotees  to  study  or  busi- 
ness, to  their  city-homes  re-invigorated  for  renewed 
action,  as  will  the  least  laborious  employments  of  the 
farmer,  the  "  sportive  toil "  of  the  naturalist,  the 
varied  enjoyments  of  the  traveller  amid  the  won- 
ders of  our  vast  primeval  forests,  or  of  the  voyager 
who  explores  the  attractions  of  our  unrivalled  chain 
of  inland  lakes.  People  who  do  their  thinking  by 
proxy,  and  regulate  their  enjoyments  by  the  on  dii 
of  the  fashionable  world,  yearly  spend  money  enough 
at  some  crowded  resort  of  the  leaii,  monde  (heavec 
Bave  the  mark !)  to  -enable  them  to  make  the  tour  of 


224 


Europe,  or  buy  a  pretty  villa  and  grounds  in  the 
country,  or  do  some  deed  "  twice  blessed,"  in  that 
"  it  blesseth  him  that  gives  and  him  that  takes." 
In  Scotland,  in  England,  in  the  l!^orth  of  Europe  gene- 
rally, men  and  women  whose  social  position  neces- 
sarily involves  refinement  of  habits  and  education, 
go,  in  little  congenial  parties,  into  the  mountains 
and  among  the  lakes,  visit  spots  renowned  in  song 
and  story,  collect  specimens  of  the  wonders  of  na- 
ture, "  camp  out,"  as  they  say  at  the  West,  eat  sim- 
ply, dress  rationally — in  short,  really  rusticate^  in 
happy  independence  alike  of  the  thraldom  of  fashion 
and  the  supremacy  of  convention.  Thus  in  the  Old 
World,  among  the  learned,  the  accomplished,  the 
high-born.  Here  in  Young  America — let  the  sallow 
cheek,  the  attenuated  limbs,  the  dull  eye  and  hlase 
air  of  the  youthful  scions  of  many  a  noble  old  Revo- 
lutionary stock,  attest  only  too  truly,  a  treasonous 
slavery  to  the  most  arbitrary  and  remorseless  of 
tyrants !  Would  that  they  may  serve,  at  least,  as 
beacons  to  warn  you,  seasonably,  against  adding 
yourselves  to  the  denizens  of  haunts  where 

"  Unwieldly  wealth,  and  cumbrous  pomp  repose ; 
And  every  want  to  luxury  allied, 
Aad  every  pang  th&t  folly  pat/s  to  pride  ^ 


1  would  that  all  my  young  countrymen  might 
have  looked  upon  the  last  hours  of  my  revered 
friend,  John  Quincy  Adams,  and  thus  learned  the 


TO   POLITENESS    AND  FASHION. 

impressive  lessons  taught  by  that  solemn  scene  ; 
lessons  that — to  use  his  own  appropriate  language — 

"  bid  us  seize  the  moments  as  they  pass, 

Snatch  the  retrieveless  sun-beam  as  it  flies, 
Nor  lose  one  sand  of  life's  revolving  glass — 
Aspiring  still,  with  energy  sublime, 
By  virtuous  deeds  to  give  Eternity  to  Time  /"* 

It  was,  indeed,  a  fitting  close  of  his  long,  noble 
life !  Faithful  to  his  duty  to  his  country,  he  main- 
tained his  post  to  the  last,  and  fell,  like  a  true  de- 
fender of  liberty — renouncing  his  weapons  only  with 
his  life.  Borne  from  the  arena  of  senatorial  strife  to 
a  couch  hastily  prepared  beneath  the  same  roof  that 
had  so  often  echoed  his  words  of  dauntless  elo- 
quence, attended  by  mourning  friends,  and  receiv- 
ing the  tender  ministrations  of  the  companion  alike 
of  his  earlier  and  later  manhood,  the  flickering  lamp 
of  life  slowly  expired.  After,  apparently,  reviewing 
the  lengthened  retrospection  of  a  temperate,  rational, 
useful  life,  from  the  boyish  years 

'  Whose  distant  footsteps  echoed  through  the  corridors  of  Time,' 

to  the  dying  efforts  of  genius  and  patriotism,  the 
hushed  stillness  of  that  hallowed  chamber  at  length 
rendered   audible   the  sublime   words — "It  is  the 

LAST   OF   EaETh!       I   AM   CONTENT  1" 

*  Concluding  lines  of  Mr.  Adams'  "Address  to  the  Sun-JHal 
under  the  window  of  the  Hall  of  the  House  of  Representatives." 

10* 


226 


*  1  think  it  was  during  the  administration  of  Sir 
diaries  Bagot,  the  immediate  successor  of  Lord 
Durham,  as  Governor  General  of  the  Canadas,  that  I 
had  the  pleasure  to  dine  one  day,  at  the  house  of  a 
distiuguished  civilian  who  held  office  under  him,  in 

company  wdth  the  celebrated  traveller  L ,  and 

his  friend,  the  well-known  E G "W ,  a 

man  who,  despite  wealth,  rank,  and  talent,  paid  a 
life-long  penalty  for  a  youthful  error.  There  were, 
also,  present  several  members  of  the  Provincial  Par- 
liament, then  in  session  at  Kingston,  which  was,  at 
that  time,  the  seat  of  government,  and  a  number  of 
ladies — those  of  the  party  of  Americans  with  whom 
I  was  travelling,  and  some  others. 

The  conversation,  very  naturally,  turned  upon  the 
national  peculiarities  o^  the  Yankees — as  the  English 
call,  not  the  inhabitants  of  New  England  alone,  but 
the  people  of  the  ISTorth  American  States  generally — 
in  consequence  of  the  fact  that  the  world-wide  travel- 
ler had  just  completed  his  first  visit  to  our  country. 
Some  one  asked  him  a  leading  question  respecting 
his  impressions  of  us  as  a  people,  and  more  than  one 
good-humored  sally  was  given  and  parried  among 

us.     At  length  L said,  so  audibly  and  gravely  as 

to  arrest  the  attention  of  the  whole  company : 

"  I  have  really  but  two  serious  faults  to  charge 
upon  Jonathan." 

"  May  we  be  permitted  to  inquire  what  those  are  !* 
returned  I. 


TO  'rOLn-ENESS   AND   FASniON.  227 

"  That  he  repudiates  his  debts^  and  doesn't  take 
time  to  cat  his  dinner ^ 

When  the  general  laugh  had  subsided,  Mr.  W 

remarked  that,  except  when  at  the  best  hotels  in 
the  larger  cities,  he  had  found  less  inducement  for 
dining  deliberately  in  the  United  States  than  in  most 
civilized  lands  he  had  visited,  in  consequence  of  the 
prevalent  bad  cookery. 

"The  wof-ds  of  Goldsmith,"  said  he,— 

"'Heaven  sends  us  good  meat,  but  the  devil  sends  cooks!' 

were  always  present  to  my  mind  when  at  table 
there!  Tliey  eschew  honest  cold  roast  beef,  as 
though  there  were  poison  in  meat  but  once  cooked, 
served  a  second  time,  though  Hamlet  is  authority  for 
our  taste  in  that  respect. — ^The  cold  venison  you  did 
me  the  honor  to  compliment  so  highly,  at  lunch,  this 

morning,  L ,  would  have  been  offered  you  fried 

by  our  good  Yankee  cousins  !" 

"The  patron  saint  of  la  cuisi7ie  forefend!"  cried 
a  smooth-browed  Englishman  —  "  not  re-cooked,  I 
hope?" 

"  Assuredly !"  returned  W — — ,  "  I  trust  these  ladies 
and  Colonel  Lunettes  will  pardon  me, — but  such  infa- 
mous stupidity  is  quite  common.  I  soon  learned,  how- 
ever, the  secret  of  preserving  my  "capacious  stomach  " 
in  unimpaired  capacity  for  action,   [an  irresistibly 


228  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's 'GUIDE 

comic  glance  downward  upon  his  portly  person]  and 
could,  I  thought,  very  readily  explain— 

*  What  is't  that  takes  from  them 
Their  stomach,  pleasures,  and  their  golden  sleep, 
Why  they  do  bend  their  eyes  upon  the  earth, 

******* 
In  thick  ey'd  musing  and  curs'd  melancholy !'" 

If  the  frank  denunciations  of  this  eccentric 
observer  of  life  and  manners  might  otherwise  have 
been  regarded  as  impolite,  his  more  severe  comments 
upon  his  own  countrymen  proved,  at  least,  that  no 
national  partiality  swayed  his  judgment. 

I  remember  his  tellirrg  me  the  following  anecdote, 
as  we  chatted  over  our  coffee,  after  joining  the  ladies 
in  the  evening: — In  answer  to  some  inquiry  on  my 
part,  respecting  the  social  condition  of  the  people — 
the  peasantry,  as  he  called  them,  of  the  Provinces, 
he  spoke  in  unmitigated  condemnation  of  their  igno- 
rance, and  especially  of  their  insolence  and  boorish- 
ness.  "  Get  L to  tell  you,"  said  he,  "  how  near- 
ly he  and  his  servants  were  frozen  to  death  one  fierce 
night,  while  an  infernal  gate-keeper  opposed  his 
road-right.     Then,  again,  the  other  morning,  Mi*s. 

M (our    hostess)    who   like  every  other    lady 

here,  except,  perhaps.  Lady  Bagot,  goes  to  market 
every  day,  was  referred  by  a  man,  from  whom  she 
inquired  for  potatoes,  to  an  old  crone,  with  the  words 
■ — '  This  lady  sell  them, — here  is  a  woman  who  wants 
to  buy  potatoes !'  " 

The  following  morning,  while  our  American  party 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  229 

were  driving  out  to  the  superb  Fort  that  protects  the 
Harbor  of  Kingston,  to  visit  which  we  had  been 
politely  furnished  with  a  permit  by  an  official  friend, 
I  endeavored  to  draw  from  a  very  charming  and 
accomplished  lady  the  secret  of  her  unusual  silence 
and  reserve  at  dinner  the  evening  before.  She  is 
really  a  celebrity,  as  much  for  her  remarkable  con- 
versational powers,  as  for  any  other  reason,  perhaps, 
and  I  had,  therefore,  the  more  regretted  her  not 
joining  in  the  conversation. 

"  What  made  the  mystery  more  difficult  of  solu- 
tion," said  one  of  the  other  ladies,  "  was  the  equally 
imperturbable  gravity  of  that  handsome  Frenchman 
who  sat  beside  Yirginia." 

"Handsome !"  retorted  Yirginia,  "  do  you  call  that 
man  handsome ! — his  high  cheek  bones  and  swarthy 
complexion  show  his  Indian  blood  rather  too  plainly 
for  my  taste,  I  must  confess." 

"  That  commingling  of  races  is  very  common  here, 

Yirginia,"   said  I,  "  Mr.  E is  a  somewhat  pro 

minent  member  of  the  Canadian  Parliament.  I  heard 
a  speech  from  him,  in  French,  yesterday  morning, 
which  was  listened  to  with  marked  attention.  There 
were  a  number  of  ladies  in  the  side-hoxes^  too,  and 
it  is  evident  from  his  attention  to  his  dress,  if  for  no 
other  reason,  that  Mr.  E is  an  elegant  P^ 

"  All  that  may  be,"  rejoined  Yirginia,  "  but  I  have 
no  fancy  for  light  blue  *  unwhisperables,'  as  Tom 
calls  them,  nor  for  ruffled  shirts !" 

"  'A  change  has  come  o'er  the  spirit  of  your  dream, 
most  queenly  daughter   of  the  'sunny  South!' — ia 


230  THE    AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN'S   GUIDE 

this  the  sprightly  Americaine  who  won  all  hearts  the 
other  day  on  the  St.  Lawrence, — from  that  magnifi- 
cent British  officer,  to  the  quiet  old  priest  whose  very 

beard  seemed  to  laugh,  at  least " 

"  That,  indeed.  Col.  Lunettes ! — but  for  your  ever- 
ready  gallantry  I  would  exclaim — 

" '  Man  delights  me  not,  nor  woman  either!' 

but  here  we  are  at  the  entrance  of  the  famous  don- 
jon keep !" 

We  spent  some  time  in  examiniDg  the — to  the 
ladies — novel  attractions  of  the  place.  By-and-by,  the 
fair  Yirginia,  who  had  strayed  oft'  a  little  by  herself, 
called  to  me  to  come  and  explain  the  mode  of  using  a 
port-hole  to  her.  In  a  few  minutes,  she  said,  in  a  low 
tone,  sitting  down,  as  she  spoke  upon  a  dismounted 
cannon,  "  Col.  Lunettes,  I  beg  you  not  to  allude  again 
to  that — to  the  dinner,  yesterday,  or,  at  least,  to  my 
embarrassment " 

"  Your  embarrassment,  my  dear  girl !"  I  exclaim- 
ed, "  you  astonish  me !     Do  explain  yourself" — 

"Hush,"  returned  my  companion,  looking  furtive- 
ly over  her  shoulder,  "  that  young  Englishman  seems 
to  be  engrossing  the  attention  of  the  rest  of  the  party, 
and,  perhaps,  I  shall  have  time  to  tell  you  " 

"Do,  my  dear,  if  anything  has  annoyed  you — • 
Burely  so  old  a  friend  may  claim  your  confidence." 

"  I  have  heard  of  the  *  son  of  a  gun,' "  replied 
she,  evidently  making  a  strong  effort  to  recall  the 
natural  sprightliness  that  seemed  so  singularly  to 
have  deserted  her  of  late ;  "  I  don't  see  why  I  am 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  231 

not  tlie  daughter  of  a  gun^  at  this  moment,  and  so 
entitled   to  be  very  brave  !      But   about   this  Mr. 

E ,  Colonel,"  she  almost  whispered,  bending  her 

head  so  as  to  screen  her  face  from  my  observation. 

"You  know  Mrs.  M called  for  me  the  other 

morning  to  go  and  walk  with  her  alone,  because,  as 
she  said,  she  wanted  to  talk  a  little  about  old  times, 

when  we  were  in   the   convent    school   at   C-^ 

together.  "Well,  as  we  came  to  a  little  "shop,"  as 
she  styled  it — a  hardware  store,  we  should  say — she 
begged  me  to  go  in  with  her  a  moment,  w^hile  she 
gave  some  directions  about  a  hall-stove,  saying,  with 
an  apology :  "  We  wives  of  government  officers 
here,  do  all  these  things,  as  a  matter  of  course." 
While  she  walked  back  in  the  place,  I  very  natu- 
rally remained  near  the  door,  amusing  myself  by 
observing  w^hat  was  passing  in  the  street.  Pre- 
sently, a  fine  horse  arrested  my  eye,  as  he  came 
prancing  along.  His  rider  seemed  to  have  some  ado 
to  control  him,  as  I  thought,  at  first,  but  I  suddenly 
became  aware  that  he  was  endeavoring  to  stop  him, 
in  mid  career,  and  that,  when  he  succeeded — he — I 
— there  was  no  mistaking  it — his  glance  almost  petri- 
fied me,  in  short,  and  I  had  only  just  power  to  tnm 
quickly  in  search  of  Mrs.  M ." 

The  slight  form  of  the  speaker  quivered  visibly, 
and  she  paused  abruptl3^ 

"  Why,  my  poor  child,"  said  I,  soothingly,  "  never 
mind  it !  How  can  you  allow  such  a  thing  to  dis- 
tress you  in  this  way  ?" 

"If  anything  of  the  kind  had  ever  happened  to  me 


before,  I  should  have  thought  it  my  fault,  in  some 
way ;  but  when  I  got  back  to  our  hotel,  and 
reviewed  the  whole  matter,  and — but  there  come 
the  rest  of  the  party  " — she  added,  hurriedly.  "  Do 
you  wonder  now  at  my  manner  at  the  dinner  ?  I 
knew  his  face  the  moment  the  man  entered  the  din- 
ing room ;  and  when  Mr.  M introduced  him,  and 

requested  him  to  conduct  me,  the  burning  glow  that 
flashed  over  his  swarthy  brow  convinced  me  that 
he,  too,  recognized  me.  I  would  sooner  have 
encountered  a  basilisk  than  your  elegant,  parlia- 
mentary Frenchman !" 


"  Doctor,  what  may  I  eat  ?"  inquired  a  dyspeptic 
American,  who  had  just  received  a  prescription 
from  Abernethy — the  eccentric  and  celebrated  Eng- 
lish physician. 

'^Eatr^  thundered  the  disciple  of  Galen,  ''nhe 
poker  and  tongs,  if  yj>u  will  cJi&w  them  wellP'' 


What  a  commingling  of  nations  and  characters 
there  was  in  the  little  party  of  which  I  made  one, 
on  a  serene  evening,  lang-syne,  at  Constantinople ! 
We  floated  gently  over  the  placid  bosom  of  the 
sunset-tinted  Golden  Horn,  rowed  by  four  stout 
Mussulmans,  and  bound  for  that  point  of  the  shore  of 
tj^.c  Marmora  nearest  the  suburb  of  Ezonb    where 


TO  POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  235 

horses  awaited  us  for  a  brisk  canter  of  some  miles 

back  to  the  city.     There  were,  Lord ,  an  English 

nobleman ;  a  Hungarian  refugee ;  a  Yankee  sea- 
captain  ;  a  dark-eyed  youth  from  one  of  the  Greek 
Islands;  and  myself — men  severed  by  birth  and  edu- 
cation from  communion  of  thought  and  feeling,  yet 
united,  for  the  moment,  by  a  similarity  of  purpose ; 
associated  by  the  subtle  influence  of  circumstance, 
into  a  serene  commingling  of  one  common  nature, 
and  capacitated  for  the  interchange  of  impressions 
and  ideas,  at  least  in  an  imperfect  degree,  through 
the  medium  of  a  strange  jargon,  compounded  origi- 
nally of  materials  as  varied  as  the  native  languages 
of  the  several  individuals  composing  the  group  in 
our  old  Turkish  Caique^  which  may  have  been,  for 
aught  we  knew,  the  identical  one  that  followed 
Byron  in  his  Leander-swim  ! 

The  conversation  naturally  partook  in  character  of 
the  scene  before  us  : — ^Near,  towered  the  time-stained 
walls  of  the  Seraglio— so  long  the  cradling-place 
of  successive  Sultans,  and  then  furnishing  the  em- 
bryo of  the  voluptuous  pleasures  of  their  anticipated 
paradise.  Beyond,  rose  the  ruin-crowned  heights, 
the  domes  and  minarets  of  old  Stamboul,  rich  in  his- 
toric suggestions,  glowing  now  in  the  warmly-linger- 
ing smile  of  the  departing  day-god, 

"  Not,  as  in  Northern  climes,  obscurely  bright, 
But  one  unclouded  blaze  of  living  light !" 

Before  us,  in  our  way  over  the  crystal  watera. 


234 


loomed  up  the  gloomy,  verdure-draped  turrets  of  tlio 
"  Irde  Koule  "  of  this  oft-rebelling  and  oft-conquered 
seat  of  Oriental  splendor  and  imperial  power.  As 
with  the  "  Tower  "  of  London,  the  mere  sight  of  this 
now  silent  and  deserted  castle,  conjured  up  recollec- 
tions replete  with  deeds  of  wild  romance,  and  darker 
scenes  of  blood  and  crime.  Around  us  flowed  the 
waters  whose  limpid  depths  had  so  oft  received  the 
sack-shrouded  form  of  helpless  beauty,  when  mid- 
night blackness  rivalled  the  horror  of  the  foul  murder 
it  veiled  forever  from  mortal  ken.  Argosies  and 
fleets  had  been  borne  upon  these  waves,  whose 
names  or  whose  conflicts  were  of  world-wide  renown 
• — from  the  mythical  adventurers  of  the  Golden- 
Fleece  to  the  triumphant  squadrons  of  the  Osmanlis, 
all  seemed  to  float  before  the  eye  of  fancy ! 

From  the  broken  sentences  that,  for  some  time, 
seemed  most  expressive  of  the  contemplative  mood 
engendered  both  by  our  surroundings  and  by  the 
placidity  of  the  hour,  there  gradually  arose  a  some- 
what connected  discussion  of  the  present  condition 
of  the  Ottoman  Porte. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  inflict  upon  you  a  de- 
tailed report  of  our  discourse ;  but  only  to  relate, 
for  your  amusement,  a  fragment  of  it,  which  some- 
how has,  strangely  enough,  floated  upwards  from 
the  darkened  waters  of  the  past,  with  sufiicient  dis- 
tinctness to  be  snatched  from  the  oblivion  to  which 
its  utter  insignificance  might  properly  consign  it. 

"There  is  not,"  said  the  British  noble — a  man 
curious  in  literature,  and  a  somewhat  speculative 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  235 

observer  of  life — "  there  is  not  a  single  purely  lite- 
rary production  in  the  Turkish  language,  written  by 
a  living  author;  not  a  poem,  nor  romance,  nor  essay. 
The  Koran  would  almost  seem  to  constitute  their  all 
of  earthly  lore  and  heavenly  aspiration.  What  an 
anomaly  in  the  biography  of  modern  peoples!" 

This  last  sentence  was  addressed  especially  to  the 
sea-captain  and  me,  the  idiomatical  English  in  which 
the  passing  fancy  of  the  speaker  found  expression 
being  wholly  unintelligible  to  all  except  ourselves. 

"Their  total  want  of  a  national  literature,"  said 
the  American,  "  does  not  so  materially  affect  my 
comfort,  I  must  confess,  as  the  utter  absence  of 
decent  civilization  in  their  renowned  capital.  For 
instance,  they  have  not  an  apology  for  a  night-police 
in  their  confoundedly  dark  streets,  except  the  infernal 
dogs  that  infest  them.  The  other  night,  return- 
ing to  my  quarters,  with  my  'Ibrahim'  pilot  in 
front  with  a  lantern,  I  was  persuaded,  as  one  of  these 
'  faithful  guardians '  fastened  his  glistening  ivories 
in  my  boot-top,  that,  like  one  of  your  '  lone  stars '  at 
ISTew  York,  Colonel  Lunettes,  he  had  '  mistaken  his 
man,'  and  supposed  me  to  be  the  returned  spirit  of 
some  one  of  the  countless  throng  of  infidel  dogs,  upon 
whom  his  public  education  had  instructed  him  to 
make  war  to — the  teeth  .^" 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !"  laughed  the  Greek,  in  tones  as 
musical  as  his  dress  and  attitude  were  picturesque, 
from  the  pile  of  boat  cloaks  upon  which  he  reposed 
in  the  bow  of  the  boat,  and  opening  his  dark  eyes  till 
one  saw  far  down  into   the  dreamy   depths  of  his 


236 


half-slumbering  soul  through  his  quick-lit  orbs.  He 
had  caught  enough  of  the  sen^e  of  the  captain's  Don- 
sense,  to  imagine  the  joke  to  the  full.  "  Ha,  ha, 
ha !"  laughed  he,  again,  and  the  shadowy  walls  of 
the  blood-stained  "  Chateau  of  Seven  Towers,"  by 
which  we  were  gliding,  gave  back  the  clear,  clarion- 
like tone ;  "  but,  while  this  brave  ^Z^  de  la  mer  *  thus 
sports  with  the  terrors  of  my  country's  enslaver 
[here  a  frown,  deep,  dark,  threatening,  and  a  quick 
clenching  of  the  jewelled  handle  of  the  yataghan  ho 
wore  in  his  belt],  the  gates  of  fair  Stamboul  will 
close,  and  nor  foe,  nor  Frank,  nor  friend,  be  given  to 
the  dogs." 

*'  By  thunder !"  shouted  the  American,  shaking 
himself  up,  as  if  at  sea,  with  a  suspicious  sail  in 
sight,  "  he  is  more  than  half  right.  "Would  you  have 
thought  it  so  late  ?" 

"  Even  a  Yankee,  like  Captain ,  a  fair  repre- 
sentative of  the  'univeral  nation,'  learns  to  dream 
and  linger  here,"  responded  the  Englishman,  good- 
humoredly. 

Upon  this,  I  made  use  of  the  little  knowledge  I 
possessed  of  the  Turkish,  to  interrogate  our  Caidjis 
respecting  the  time  further  required  to  reach  our 
landing-place. 

"  Allah  is  great,  and  Mohammed  is  his  Prophet !" 
was  all  I  could  fully  apprehend  of  his  slowly-deli- 
vered reply. 

It  was  now  the  captain's  turn  to  laugh,  and  as  his 

•  Son  of  the  sea. 


TO  POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  237 

Bonorous  peal  rippled  over  the  Marmora,  lie  quietly 
insinuated  liis  fore-finger  and  thumb  into  the  disen- 
gaged palm  of  the  devout  Mussulman  I  had  so 
touchingly  adjured. 

The  only  response  of  the  devotee  of  the  Prophet 
was  a  gutteral  repetition  of  "  Pekee !  good  I  pekee  ! 
pekee !"  But  by  an  influence  as  effective  as  it  was 
mysterious,  our  swan-like  movement  was  exchanged 
for  a  most  hope-encouraging  velocity. 

"  Bravo !"  exclaimed  my  lord. 

"  Bravissima  !"  intonated  the  Hun. 

"  Go  it,  boys  !"  shouted  the  "  old  salt." 

"By  the  soul  of  Mithridates  and  the  deeds  of 
Thermopolse !"  chimed  in  the  scion  of  the  "  isles  of 
Greece,"  catching  the  instinctively-intelligible  conta- 
gion of  the  sportive  moment. 

"  And  what  said  Uncle  Hal  ?"  you  wonder,  per- 
haps. Oh,  I  was  listening  to  the  low,  melancholy, 
semi-howl  in  which  the  imperturbable  Moslems  were 
slowly  chanting  ''  Giizal!  pek  guzal  P^^  as  they 
turned  their  dull  eyes  lingeringly  towards  their  fast- 
receding  mosques  and  minarets. 

But,  meeting  the  questioning  glances  of  my  com- 
panions, as  their  mirth  began  to  subside,  I  contri- 
buted my  humble  quota  to  the  general  stock  of  fun, 
by  saying,  with  extreme  gravity  of  voice  and  man- 
ner: 

"  When  will  wonders  cease  in  the  Golden  Horn  ! 
At  first,  even  its  unquestionable  antiquity  did  not 

*  My  beautiful !  my  most  beautiful  I 


238  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

redeem  this  vessel  from  my  contempt — now  I  con- 
sider it  an  '  irresistible  duck  P — and  I  wish,  more- 
over, to  publish  my  conviction  that,  though  barba- 
rous in  matters  of  literature  and  art,  the  Turks  im- 
pressively teach  their  boastful  superiors  a  religious 
respect  for  cleanliness ^ 


I  remember  to  have  been  singularly  impressed, 
when  I  read  it,  with  an  anecdote  somewhat  as  fol- 
lows : 

As  too  frequently  happens  on  such  occasions,  a 
discussion  in  relation  to  some  insignificant  matter, 
into  which  a  large  party  of  men,  who  had  dined  to- 
gether, and  were  lingering  late  over  their  wine,  had 
fallen,  gradually  increased  in  vehemence  and  obsti- 
nacy of  opinion,  imtil  frenzied  excitement  ruled 
the  hour. 

"  From  words  they  almost  came  to  blows, 
When  luckily  " 

the  attention  of  one  of  the  most  furious  of  the  dispu 
tants  was  suddenly  arrested  by  the  appearace  of  one  ot 
the  gentlemen  present.  There  was  no  angry  flush  on 
his  brow,  no  "  laughing  devil  "  in  his  eye,  and  he  sat 
quietly  regarding  the  scene  before  him,  serene  and 
self-possessed  as  when  he  entered  the  apartment 
hours  before.  His  astonished  companion  inquired 
the  cause  of  such  placidity,  in  the  midst  of  anger 
and  turbulence. 


TO    POLITENESS   AlO)    FASHION.  239 

The  gentleman  pointed,  with  a  smile,  to  a  half- 
empty  water-bottle  beside  him,  and  replied :  '^  While 
the  rest  of  the  company  have  been  industriously 
occupied  in  endeavoring  to  drown  the  distinctive 
attribute  of  man — reason — I  have  preserved  its  su- 
premacy by  simply  confining  myself  to  a  non- intoxi- 
cating beverage." 


I  trust  you  will  not  think  the  following  somewhat 
quaint  verses,  from  the  pen  of  an  old  and  now  almost 
forgotten  poet,  a  mal-d-jprojpos  conclusion  to  this 
letter : 

THE  YOUTH  AND  THE  PHILOSOPHER 

A  Grecian  youth,  of  talents  rare, 
Whom  Plato's  philosophic  care 
Had  formed  for  Virtue's  nobler  view, 
By  precept  and  example  too, 
Would  often  boast  his  matchless  skill 
To  curb  the  steed,  and  guide  the  wheel ; 
And  as  he  passed  the  gazing  throng 
With  graceful  ease,  and  smack'd  the  thong, 
The  idiot  wonder  they  expressed, 
Was  praise  and  transport  to  his  breast. 

At  length,  quite  vain,  he  needs  would  show 

His  master  what  his  art  could  do ; 

And  bade  his  slaves  the  chariot  lead 

To  Academus'  sacred  shade. 

The  trembling  grove  conlessed  its  fright. 

The  wood-nymphs  started  at  the  sight ; 

The  Muses  drop  the  learned  lyre, 

And  to  their  inmost  shades  retire. 

Howe'er,  the  youth,  with  forward  air, 

Bows  to  the  Sage,  and  mounts  the  car; 


J 


24:0  THE  AMERICAN  GENTLEMAn's   QVUm 

The  lash  resounds,  the  coursers  spring, 
The  chariot  marks  the  rolling  ring ; 
And  gathering  crowds,  with  eager  eyes, 
And  shouts,  pursue  him  as  he  flies. 

Triumphant  to  the  goal  returned, 
With  nobler  thirst  his  bosom  burned ; 
And  now  along  the  indented  plain 
The  self-same  track  he  marks  again ; 
Pursues  with  care  the  nice  design, 
Nor  ever  deviates  from  the  line. 
Amazement  seized  the  circling  crowd ; 
The  youths  with  emulation  glowed ; 
E'en  bearded  sages  hailed  the  boy, 
And  all  but  Plato  gazed  with  joy. 

For  he,  deep-judging  sage,  beheld 

With  pain  the  triumph  of  the  field : 

And  when  the  charioteer  drew  nigh. 

And,  flushed  with  hope,  had  caught  his  eya^ 
"  Alas !  unhappy  youth,"  he  cried, 
"  Expect  no  praise  from  me,"  (and  sighed)  ; 
"  With  indignation  I  survey 

Such  skill  and  Judf/ment  thrown  away : 

Th^  time  profusely  squandered  there 

On  vulgar  arts^  beneath  thy  care. 

If  well  employed,  at  less  expense. 

Had  taught  thee  Honor,  Virtue,  Sense  ; 

And  raised  thee  from  a  coachman's  fate^ 

To  govern  men,  and  guide  tJte  stateJ'^ 

One  seldom  finds  a  nicer  selection  of  words  than 
those  of  the  last  lines  of  these  admonitory  stanzas. 
With  the  wish  that  they  may  gratify  your  literary 
acumen,  I  am,  as  ever, 

Tour  faithful  friend, 

Harry  Lunettes. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  2il 


LETTER  YHI. 


LETTER-WRITING 


My  i>KAR  Nephews: 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  form  of  composition 
with  which  it  is  as  desirable  to  be  practically  fami- 
liar, and  in  which  all  educated  persons  should  be 
accomplished,  as  that  of  letter-writing*  yet  no 
branch  of  an  elegant  education  is  more  frequently 
neglected.  Consequently,  the  grossest  errors,  and 
the  utmost  carelessness,  are  tolerated  in  regard  to  it. 
Rhetorical  faults,  and  even  ungrammatical  expres- 
sions, are  constantly  overlooked,  and  illegibility  has 
almost  come  to  be  regarded  as  an  essential  character- 
istic. 

Following  the  homely  rule  of  the  lightning-tamer, 
that  "  nothing  i^  worth  doing  at  all  that  is  not  worth 
doing  well^"^  you  will  not  need  argument  to  convince 
you  ef  the  propriety  of  attention  to  this  subject, 
while  forming  habits  of  life. 

Different  occasions  and  subjects  require,  of  course, 
as  various  styles  of  epistolary  composition.  Thus 
the  laconic  language  adapted  to  a  formal  business 
letter,  would  be  wholly  unsuited  to  one  of  friend- 
ship ;  and  the  playfulness  that  might  be  appropriate 

11 


242  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

in  a  congratulatory  communication,  would  be  quite 
out  of  place  in  a  letter  of  condolence. 

While  it  is  impossible  that  any  general  rules  can 
be  laid  down  that  will  be  always  applicable  in  indi- 
vidual cases,  a  few  directions  of  universal  applica- 
tion may,  not  inappropriately,  be  introduced  in  con- 
nection with  our  present  purpose. 

The  principal  requisites  oi  Letters  of  Business  are, 
inteUigibilityj  legibility^  and  brevity .  To  secure  the 
first  of  these  essentials,  a  clear,  concise,  expressive 
selection  of  language  is  required.  Each  word  and 
sentence  should  express  exactly  and  unequivocally 
the  idea  intended  to  be  conveyed,  and  in  characters 
that  will  not  obscure  the  sense  by  doubtful  legibility, 
A  legible  hand  should  certainly  be  as  essential  as 
intelligible  utterance.  We  pity  the  man  who  by 
stammering,  or  stuttering,  not  only  taxes  the  time 
and  patience  of  his  hearers,  but  leaves  them,  at 
times,  uncertain  of  his  meaning,  despite  their  efforts 
to  comprehend  him.  What,  then,  is  the  misfor- 
tune of  those  who,  like  the  most  genial  of  wits, 
'  decline  to  read  their  own  writing,  after  it  is  twen- 
ty-four hours  old !'  Do  not,  I  pray  you,  let  any 
absurd  impression  respecting  the  excusableness  of 
this  defection  the  score  that  genius  is  superior  to  the 
trifles  of  detail^  etc.,  lead  you  either  into  carelessness 
or  indifference  on  the  subject.  Few  men  have  the 
excuse  of  possessing  the  dangerous  gift  of  genius,  and 
to  affect  the  weaknesses  by  which  it  is  sometimes 
accompanied,  is  equally  silly  and  contemptible.  A 
man  of  sense  will  aim  at  attaininoj  a  true  standard 


TO  rOLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  243 

of  right,  not  at  caricaturing  a  defective  modeL 
Depend  upon  it,  a  good  husiness-hand  is  no  small 
recommendation  to  young  men  seeking  employment 
in  any  of  the  occupations  of  li*fe.  The  propriety  of 
hrevity  in  letters  of  business,  wil.  at  once  commend 
itself  to  your  attention.  Time — the  wealth  of  the 
busy — ^is  thus  saved  for  two  parties.  But  remember, 
I  repeat,  that,  while  this  precious  treasure  is  best 
secured  by  expressing  what  you  wish  to  communi- 
cate in  as  few  words  as  possible,  nothing  is  gained 
by  leaving  your  precise  meaning  doubtful,  by  un- 
authorized abbreviations,  confused  sentences,  or  the 
omission  of  any  essential — as  a  date,  address,  propei 
signature,  important  question,  or  item  of  informa- 
tion. Let  me  add,  that  rapidity  of  mechanical  exe- 
cution is  of  no  mean  importance  in  this  regard. 

Letters  of  Introduction  should  be  so  expressed  as 
to  aiford  the  reader  a  clue  to  the  particular  purpose 
of  the  bearer  in  desiring  his  acquaintance,  if  any 
such  there  be.  This  will  prevent  the  awkwardness 
of  a  personal  explanation,  and  furnish  a  convenient 
theme  for  the  commencement  of  a  conversation  be- 
tween strangers.  Thus,  if  it  be  simply  a  friend,  tra- 
velling in  search  of  pleasure  and  general  information, 
whom  you  wish  to  commend  to  the  general  civilities 
of  another  friend,  some  such  form  as  the  following 
will  suffice : 

My  dear  Sir  : 

Allow  me  the  pleasure  of  introducing  to 
you  my  friend,  Mr. ,  a  gentleman  wbose 


244 


intelligence  and  acquirements  render  his  acquaint- 
ance an  acquisition  to  all  who  are  favored  with  his 

society.     Mr. visits  your  city  [or  town,  or  part 

of  the  country,  or,  your  celebrated  city,  or,  your  en- 
terprising town,  or  your  far-famed  State,  etc.]  merely 
as  an  observant  traveller.     Such  attentions  as  it  may 
be  agreeable  to  you  to  render  him  will  oblige 
Your  sincere  friend, 

and  obedient  servant, 


To  Hon. 


When  you  wish  to  write  a  letter  oi  introduction 
for  a  person  seeking  a  situation  in  business,  a  place 
of  residence,  scientific  information,  or  the  like  ; 
briefly,  but  distinctly,  state  this  to  your  correspondent, 
together  with  any  circumstance  creditable  to  the 
bearer,  or  which  it  will  be  advantageous  to  him  to 
have  known,  which  you  can  safely  venture  to  avouch. 
(No  one  is  in  any  degree  bound  by  individual  regard 
to  impair  his  reputation  for  probity  or  veracity  in 
this,  or  any  other  respect.) 

A  letter  introducing  an  Artist,  a  Lecturer,  etc., 
should  contain  some  allusion  to  the  professiopal 
reputation  of  the  bearer— thus : 


My  dear  "Williamson: 

This  will  be  presented  to  you  by  our  dis- 
tinguished  countryman,   Mr. — — ,  who   prO' 

poses  a  brief  visit  to  your  enterprising  city,  chiefly 
for  professional  purposes.    It  affords  me  great  plea- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  24:5 

Bure  to  be  the  means  of  securing  to  friends  whom  I 
so  highly  value,  the  gratification  I  feel  assured  you 

and  Mr. will  derive  from  knowing  each  other. 

With  the  best  wishes  for  your  mutual  success  and 
liappiness,  I  am,  my  dear  sir, 

Yery  truly  yours, 


To ,  Esq. 

In  the  instance  of  a  celebrity,  occupying  at  the 
time  a  space  in  the  world's  eye,  something  like  this 
will  suffice : 

Boston,  August  Ist^  1863. 

My  dear  Friend: 

It  gives  me  pleasure  to  present  to  your 
acquaintance  a  gentleman  from  whose  society  you 

cannot  fail  to  derive  high  enjoyment.     Mr. [or 

the  Hon. ,  or  Gen. ]*  needs  no  eulogy 

*  Always  be  scrupulously  careful  to  give  titles,  and  with  accuracy. 
The  proper  designation  of  a  gentleman  not  in  office,  is— Esquire. 
(This,  of  course,  should  not  be  given  to  a  tradesman,  or  menial) 
That  of  a  judge,  member  of  Congress,  mayor  of  a  city,  member  of  a 
State  legislature,  etc.,  etc.,  is — Honorable  ;  that  of  a  clergyman — • 
Reverend;  that  of  a  bishop — Right  Reverend.  You  are,  of  course, 
familiar  with  the  proper  abbreviations  for  these  titles.  In  writing 
the  address  of  a  letter,  it  is  desirable  to  know  the  Christian  name  of 
the  person  to  whom  it  is  to  be  directed.  Thus,  if  a  physician, 
♦♦  Charles  Jones,  M.  D.,"  is  better  than  "  Dr.  Jones."  So,  "  Dr, 
De  Lancey,"  or  "  Bishop  Potter,"  are  obviously  improper.  The  cor- 
rect form  to  be  used  in  this  instance,  is: 
*♦  To  the 

''Right  Rev.  Alomo  Potter^  D,  i)." 


2^ 

of  mine  to  render  his  reputation  familiar  to  you, 
identified  as  it  is  with  the  literature  of  our  country 
[or  the  scientific  fame,  or  the  eloquence  of  the  pul- 
pit, etc.]  Commending  my  friend  to  your  courtesy, 
believe  me,  my  dear  Jones, 

Truly  your  friend  and  servant. 


Kev. 


Letters  of  introduction  should  always  be  unsealed^ 
and,  as  a  rule,  should  relate  only  to  the  affairs  of  the 
bearer,  not  even  passingly  to  those  of  the  writer  or 
his  correspondent.  When  it  is  desirable  to  write 
what  cannot,  for  any  reason,  be  properly  introduced 
into  the  open  letter,  a  separate  and  sealed  communi- 

The  proper  address  of  a  J/itms^er  representing  our  government 

abroad,  is — "the  Honorable ,  Minister  for  the  TJ.  S.  of 

America,  near  the  Court  of  St.  James,  or  St.  Cloud,"  etc.  That  of  a 
Charge  (T Affaires^  or  Consul,  etc.,  varies  with  their  respective  offices. 
A.  Charge  d Affaires  is  sometimes  familiarly  spoken  of  as  "  Our 
Dhargk^'*  at  such  a  Court — or  as  the  '"'•  American  Charged 

A  clergyman  may  be  addressed  as  "  Rev.  Mr. ,"  if  you  do  not 

know  the  first  name,  or  initial^  and  so  may  a  doctor  of  divinity ; 
but  in  the  latter  case  it  would,  perhaps,  be  better  to  write — "  Rev. 
Dr.  James," — though  the  more  accurate  mode  will  still  be,  if  attain- 
able, "  Rev.  William  James,  D.D." 

Gentlemen  of  the  Army  and  Navy  should  always  be  designated  by 
their  proper  titles,  and  it  is  well  not  to  be  ignorant  that  a  man  in 
either  of  these  professions,  when 

"  He  hath  got  his  sword  . . . 
And  seems  to  know  the  use  on't," 

may  not  like  to  be  reminded  that  the  slow  promotion  he  has  attained 
is  unknown  to  his  friends  ! 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION  247 

cation  may  be  written  and  sent,  with  a  polite  apo- 
logy, or  brief  explanation,  with  the  other. 

When  letters  of  introduction  are  delivered  in  per- 
son, they  should  be  sent  by  the  servant  who  admits 
you,  together  with  your  card,  to  the  lady  or  gentle- 
man to  whom  they  are  addressed,  as  the  most  con- 
venient mode  of  announcing  yourself,  and  the  object 
of  your  visit. 

When  you  do  not  find  the  person  you  wish  to  see, 
write  your  temporary  address  upon  your  card,  as  "At 
the  American  Hotel"  — "With  Mrs.  Henry,  22 
Washington-st." — "  At  Hon.  John  Berkley's,"  etc. 
Should  you  send  your  letter,  accompany  it  by  your 
card  2C0iA  jpresent  address,  and  inclose  both  together 
in  an  envelope  directed  to  the  person  for  whom 
they  are  designed.  When  your  stay  is  limited  and 
brief,  it  is  suitable  to  add  upon  your  card,  together 
with  an  accurate  date — "  For  to-day,"  or,  "  To  remain 
but  two  or  three  days."  And  in  case  of  any  expla- 
nation, or  apology,  or  request  being  requisite,  such 
as  you  would  have  made  in  a  'personal  interview, 
write  a  note^  to  be  inclosed  with  the  letter  of  presen- 
tation. Every  omission  of  these  courtesies  that  may 
occasion  trouble,  or  inconvenience  to  others,  is  ill- 
bred,  and  may  easily  serve  to  prejudice  strangers 
against  you. 

Sometimes  it  is  well  to  make  an  appointment 
through  the  card  you  leave,  or  send,  with  a  letter,  or 
for  a  stranger  whom  you  wish  to  meet,  as — "  At  the 
Globe  Hotel,  this  emning^"^  with  a  date,  or  thus  \ — 


248 


"Will  pay  his   respects  to  Mi's.   ,   to-morrow 

morning,  with  her  permission." 

A  letter  introducing  a  young  man,  still  "  unknown 
to  fame,"  to  a  lady  of  fashion,  or  of  distinguished 
social  position,  may  be  expressed  somewhat  in  this 
manner : 

To 

Mrs.  Modish^* 

No.  14  Belgrave  Place^ 

Charleston,  S.  C. 

AsTOR  House,  New  York,  Jan.  21  th,  18G3. 

Deab  Madam  : 

Permit  me  to  present  to  you  my  friend, 
Mr.  James  Stuart — a  gentleman  whose  polished 
manners  and  irreproachable  character  embolden  me 

*  It  is  etiquette  to  address  communications  to  a  lady  according  to 
the  style  she  adopts  for  her  card.  Thus,  the  elder  of  two  married 
ladies,  bearing  the  same  name  and  of  the  same  family,  may  properly 

designate  herself  simply  as  Mrs. ,  without  any  Christian  name 

(her  position  in  society  and  the  addition  upon  her  card,  of  her  locale 
being  supposed  sufficient  to  identify  her).  The  wives  of  her  young- 
est brother,  or  those  of  her  sons,  are  then  "  Mrs.  N.  C. ,"  "Mrs. 

Charles ,"  and  so  on.     The  eldest  of  a  family  of  sisters  is, 

"  Miss ,"  the  younger  are  "  Miss  Nellie ^,"  "  Miss  Julia ," 

etc.  In  writing  to,  or  conversing  with  them,  you  thus  individualize 
them.  But  when  you  are  upon  ceremonious  terms  with  them,  in  the 
absence  of  the  elder,  you  address  one  of  the  younger  sisters,  with 
whom  you  are  conversing,  as  "  Miss ,"  only,  omitting  the  indivi- 
dualizing Christian  name.  Of  course,  when  writing  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, a  note  of  ceremony  designed  for  the  young  ladies  of  a 

family,  collectively,  should  be  addressed  to  "  The  Misses ;"  and 

if  for  one  of  them,  alone,  to  "  Miss ^,"  or,  "Miss  Mary  Gt, ,' 

as  the  case  may  be. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   lASHION.  249^ 

to  request  for  him  the  honor  of  an  acquaintance  with 
even  so  fastidious  and  accomplished  an  arbiter  of 
fashion  as  yourself 

Mr.  Stuart  will  be  able  to  give  you  all  the  inform- 
ation you  may  desire  respecting  our  mutual  friends 
and  acquaintances  in  society  here. 

Do  me  the  honor  to  make  my  very  respectful 
compliments  to  the  Misses  Modish,  and  to  believe 
me,  dear  madam, 

Most  respectfully. 

Your  friend  and  servant, 

KoBERT  B.  Hawks. 
Mrs.  Modish. 

Letters  -presenting /'oreigners,  should  designate  the 
country  and  particular  locality  to  which  they  belong, 
as  well  as  the  purpose  of  their  tour,  as—"  The  Che- 
valier Bonne,  of  Berne,  Switzerland  whose  object  in 
visiting  our  young  Republic  is  not  only  the  wish  to 
compare  our  social  and  political  institutions  with 
those  of  his  own  country,  but  the  collection  of  speci- 
mens and  information  respecting  the  Natural  His-' 
tory  of  the  United  States.  Such  assistance  as  you 
may  bo  able  to  render  my  learned  friend,  in  facili- 
tating his  particular  researches,  will  confer  a  favor 
upon  me,  my  dear  sir,  which  I  shall  ever  gratefully 
remember,"  etc.,  etc. 

The  subject  of  letters  of  introduction  naturally 
suggests  that  o^ personal  introductions^  in  relation  to 
which  the  grossest  mistakes  and  the  greatest  care- 
lessness are  prevalent,  even  among  well-bred  people, 

11* 


250  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

In  making  persons  acquainted  with  eacli  other, 
the  form  of  words  may  vary  almost  with  every 
different  occasion,  bnt  there  are  certain  rules  that 
should  never  be  overlooked,  since  they  refer  to  con- 
siderations of  abstract  propriety. 

Younger  persons  and  inferiors  in  social  rank, 
should,  almost  invariably,  be  presented  to  their  se- 
niors and  superiors.  Thus,  one  should  not  say — "  Mr. 
Smith,  let  me  introduce  Mr.  Washington  Irving  to 
you,"  but  "  Mr.  Irving,  will  you  allow  me  to  intro- 
duce Mr.  John  Smith  to  you  ?"  Or,  "  Permit  me  to 
present  Mr.  Smith  to  you,  sir,"  presupposing  that 
Mr.  Smith  does  not  need  to  be  informed  to  whom  he 
is  about  to  be  introduced.  It  is  difficult  to  express 
upon  paper  the  difference  of  signification  conveyed 
by  the  mode  of  intonating  a  sentence.  "  General 
Scott,  Mr.  Jones,"  may  be  so  pronounced  as  to  pre- 
sent the  latter  gentlemen  to  our  distinguished  coun- 
tryman, in  a  simple,  but  admissible  manner,  or  it 
may  ilhistrate  the  impropriety  of  naming  a  man  of 
mark  to  a  person  who  makes  no  pretensions  to  social 
equality  with  him. 

Usually,  men  should  be  introduced  to  women, 
upon  the  principle  that  precedence  is  always  yielded 
to  the  latter ;  but,  even  in  this  case,  an  exception 
may  properly  be  made  in  the  instance  of  an  intro- 
duction between  a  very  young^  or,  otherwise,  wholly 
unindividualized  woman,  and  a  man  of  high  posi- 
tion, or  of  venerable  age.  A  half-playful  variation 
from  the  ordinary  phraseology  of  this  ceremony, 
may  sometimes  be  adopted,  under   such  circum* 


TO  roLrrENESs  and  fashion.  251 

stances,  with  good  taste,  as— "This  young  lady  desires 
the  pleasure  of  knowing  you,  sir — Miss  Williams," 
or,  "  Mr.  Prescott,  this  is  my  niece.  Miss  Ada  Byron 
Robinson." 

When  there  is  a  "  distinction  without  a  differ- 
ence" between  two  persons,  or  when  hospitality 
interdicts  your  assuming  to  decide  a  nice  point  in 
this  regard,  it  may  be  waived  by  merely  naming  the 
parties   in   such  a  way  as  to   give  precedence  to 

neither — thus  :  "  Gentlemen,  allow  me — Mr.  W , 

Mr.  Y ,"  or,  "  Gentlemen,  allow  me  the  pleasure 

of  making  you  known  to  each  other,"  and  then  sim- 
ply pronounce  the  names  of  the  two  persons. 

By  the  way,  let  me  call  your  attention  to  the 
importance  of  an  audibU  and  distinct  enunciation 
of  names^  when  assuming  to  make  an  introduction. 
A  quiet^  self-possessed  manner^  and  intelligibility 
should  be  regarded  as  essential  at  such  times. 

When  introducing  persons  wlio  are  necessarily 
wholly  imacquainted  with  each  other's  antecedents  of 
station  or  circumstance,  it  is  eminently  proper  to  add 
a  brief  explanation,  as — "  Mr.  Preudhomne,  let  me 
introduce  my  brother-in-law.  General  Peters, — Mr. 
Preudhomne,  of  Paris,"  or ;  "Mrs.  Blandon,  with  your 
permission,  I  will  present  to  you  Seiior  Abeuno,  a 
Spanish  gentleman.  Senior  A.  speaks  French  per- 
fectly, but  is  unacquainted  with  our  language ; " 
or,  "  Mr.  Smithson,  this  is  my  friend  Mr.  Brown,  of 
Philadelphia — like  owv^oiYQQ^  a  merchant ;  "  or,  "  My 
dear,  this  is  Captain  Blevin,  of  the  good  ship  Never 
fiink, — Mrs.  ^Nephews,  sir." 


252  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUmE 

l^ever  say  "  My  wife,"  or  "  My  daughter,  or  "  My 
Bister,"  "  My  father-in-law,"  or  the  like,  without  giv- 
ing each  their  proper  ceremonious  title.  How  should 
a  stranger  know  whether  your  "  daughter  "  is — 

"  Sole  (laughter  of  your  house  and  heart," 

or  Miss  "  Lucy,"  or  "  Belinda,"  the  third  or  fourth  in 
the  order  of  time,  and,  consequently,  of  precedence, 
or  what  may  chance  to  be  the  name  of  your  father-in- 
law,  or  half  sister,  etc.,  etc. 

Well-bred  people  address  each  other  by  name, 
when  conversing,  and  hence  the  awkwardness  occa- 
sioned by  this  vulgar  habit,  which  is  only  equalled 
by  that  of  speaking  of  your  wife  as  "  My  wife,"*  or 
worse  still,  "my  ladyP''  Is  it  not  enough,  when 
your  friends  know  that  you  are  married,  and  are 
perfectly  familiar  with  your  own  name,  to  speak  of 

"  Mrs. ,"  and  to  introduce  them  to  the  mistress 

of  your  house  by  that  designation  ? 

It  is  a  solecism  in  good  manners  to  suppose  it  un- 
suitable to  designate  the  members  of  your  own  family 
by  their  proper  titles  under  all  circumstances  that 
would  render  it  suitable  and  convenient  to  do  so  in 
the  instance  of  other  persons.     Never  fall  into  the 

*  This  reminds  me  of  another  habit  that  is  becoming  prevalent  iu 
this  new  land  of  ours — that  of  men's  entering  themselves  upon  the 
Registers  of  Hotels,  Ocean  Steamers,  etc.,  as  "  M.  A.  Timeson  and 
ladyV  or,  "Mr.  G.  Simpson  and  wife?''  What  can  possibly  be  the 
objection  to  the  good  old  established  form  of  "Mr.  and  Mrs.  M.  A. 
Timeson,"  or  "  George  and  Mrs.  Simpson,  or  "  Mr.  G.  Simpson.  Mra. 
and  the  Misses  Simpson  ?" 


TO   rOLITENESS    AND   FASHION.  253 

American  peculiarity  on  this  point,  I  entreat  you. 

Say — "  My  father,  Dr.  Y ,"  or  "  My  sister,  Miss 

y ,"  "Mrs.  Col.  Y ,  my  sister-in-law,"   or, 

"  My  sister,  Mrs.  John  Jenkins,"  with  as  scrupulous 
a  regard  for  rank  and  precedence,  as  though  dealing 
with  strangers.  Indeed,  you  virtually  ignore  all 
personal  considerations,  while  acting  in  a  social 
relation  merely. 

The  rules  of  etiquette  very  properly  interdict  in- 
discriminate  introductions  in  general  society.  !N'o 
one  has  a  right  to  thrust  the  acquaintance  of  persons 
upon  each  other  without  their  permission,  or,  at  least, 
without  some  assurance  that  it  will  be  agreeable  to 
them  to  know  each  other.  Strangers  meeting  at  the 
house  of  a  mutual  friend,  in  a  morning  visit,  or  the 
like,  converse  with  each  other,  or  join  in  the  general 
conversation  without  an  introduction,  which  it  is  not 
usual  among  fashionable  people  to  give  under  such 
circumstances.  K  you  wish  to  present  a  gentleman 
of  your  acquaintance  to  a  lady,  you  first  ask  her  per- 
mission, either  in  person  or  by  note,  to  take  him  to 
her  house,  if  she  be  married,  or  to  do  so  at  a  party, 
etc.,  where  you  may  chance  to  meet  her.  In  the 
instance  of  a  very  young  lady,  propriety  demands 
your  obtaining  the  consent  of  one  of  her  parents 
before  adding  to  her  list  of  male  acquaintances,  unless 
you  are  upon  such  terms  of  intimacy  with  her  family 
and  herself,  as  to  render  this  superfluous;  and  so 
with  all  your  friends.  It  is  better,  however,  even 
where  unceremoniousness  is  admissible,  to  err  upon 
the  safer  side. 


254 


Among  men,  greater  license  maybe  taken;  but", 
as  a  'intle^  I  repeat,  persons  are  not  introduced  in  tho 
street,  in  pump-rooms,  in  the  public  parlors  of  hotels, 
or  watering-places,  meeting  incidentally  at  receptions 
or  at  morning  visits,  etc. ;  and  not  even  when  they 
are  your  guests  at  large  dinners,  or  soirees,  without 
their  previous  assent  or  request. 

Of  course,  such  rules,  like  all  the  laws  of  conven- 
tion, are  established  and  followed  for  convenience, 
and  should  not  be  regarded,  like  those  of  the  Medes 
and  Persians,  as  unchangeable.  Good  sense  and  good 
feeling  will  vary  them  with  the  changes  of  cir- 
cumstance. No  amiable  person,  for  instance,  will 
hesitate  to  set  them  aside  for  the  observance  of  the 
more  imperative  law  of  kindness,  when  associated 
with  those  who  are  ignorant  of  their  existence  (as 
many  really  excellent  persons  are),  and  would  be 
pained  by  their  strict  observance.  ISTeither  should 
the  most  punctilious  sticklers  for  form  think  it 
necessary  to  make  a  parade  of  the  mere  letter  of  such 
rules,  at  any  time.  It  is  the  spirit  we  want,  for  the 
j)romotion  of  social  convenience  and  propriety. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  as  well  in  this  connection  as  in 
any  other,  to  say  a  word  about  the  matter  of  visiting 
cards. 

Fashion  sanctions  a  variety  of  forms  for  this  neces- 
sary appendage.  In  Europe,  it  is  very  common  to 
affix  the  professional  or  political  title  to  the  name,  as 

" ,  Professor  in  the  University  of  Heidel- 

burg,"  or,  " ,  Conseiller  d'Etat,"  ;  and  an 

Englishman  in  public  life  often  has  on  his  card  the 


TO   rOLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  255 

cabalistic  characters — "In  H.  M.  S." — (in  Her  Majes- 
ty's Service).  Among  the  best-bred  Americans,  I 
think  the  prevalent  usage  is  to  adopt  the  simfple  sig* 
nature^  as  "  Henry  Wise,"  or  to  prefix  the  title  of 
Mr.,  as  "Mr.  Seward."  Sometimes, — particularly 
for  cards  to  be  used  away  from  home — the  place  of 
residence  is  also  engraved  in  one  corner  below  the 
name.* 

Europeans  occasionally  adopt  the  practice  of  hav- 
ing the  corners  of  the  reverse  side  of  their  cards  engra- 
ven across  with  such  convenient  words  as  ''''Pour 
dire  Adieu  "  (to  say  good  bye).  "  Congratulation'^'* 
(to  offer  congratulations).  '"''Pour  affaire'''*  (on  an 
errand,  or  on  business).  ''''Arrive''''  (tantamount  to 
"  in  town ").  The  appropriate  corner  is  turned  over, 
as  occasion  requires,  and  the  sentence  is  thus  brought 
into  notice  on  the  same  side  with  the  name. 

Business  cards  should  never  be  used  in  social  life, 
nor  should  flourishes,  ornamental  devices,  or  gene- 
rally unintelligible  characters  be  employed.  A 
smooth,  white  card,  of  moderate  size,  with  a  plain, 
legible  inscription  of  the  name,  is  in  unexceptionable 
taste  and  ton,  suitable  for  all  occasions,  and  sufficient 
for  all  purposes,  with  the  addition,  when  circum- 
stances require  it,  of  a  pencilled  word  or  sentence. 
But  to  return  to  our  main  subject. 

Letters  of  Recommendation  partake  of  the  general 
character  of  those  of  introduction.  It  is  sufficient  to 
add,  in  regard  to  them,  that  they  should  be  conscien- 
tiously expressed.  All  that  can  be  truthfully  said 
for  the  advantage  of  the  bearer,  should  be  included ; 

*  Persons  belonging  to  the  Army  and  Navy  use  their  full  titles,  with 
the  ;iadition  of  "  U.  S.  A.,"  or  "  XT.  S.  N." 


256 


but,  as  I  have  before  remarked,  no  one  is  obliged  to 
compromise  his  own  integrity  to  advance  the  interests 
of  others  in  this  manner,  more  than  in  any  other. 

Letters  of  Condolence  require  great  care  and  deli- 
cacy of  composition.  They  should  relate  chiefly,  as 
a  rule,  to  the  subject  by  which  they  are  elicited,  and 
express  syinj^athy  rather  than  aim  at  administering 
consolation.  No  general  directions  can  be  made  to 
embrace  the  peculiarities  of  circumstance  in  this 
regard.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  inspiration  of 
genuine  feeling  will  dictate  rather  expressions  of 
kindly  interest  for  the  sufferer  you  address,  of  respect 
and  regard  for  a  departed  friend,  or  an  appreciation 
of  the  magnitude  of  the  misfortune  you  deplore, 
rather  than  coldly  polished  sentences  and  prolonged 
reference  to  one's  self. 

Letters  of  Congratulation  should  embody  cheerful- 
ness and  cordiality  of  sentiment,  and  be  at  an  equal 
remove  from  an  exaggeration  of  style,  suggesting 
the  idea  of  insincerity  or  of  covert  ridicule,  and  from 
chilling  politeness,  or  indications  of  indifference.  To 
"  rejoice  with  those  who  rejoice  "  is  indeed  a  pleas- 
ing and  easy  task  for  those  who  are  blessed  with  a 
genial  nature,  and  enrich  themselves  by  partaking  in 
the  good  fortune  of  others.  Letters  expressing  this 
pleasure  admit  of  a  little  more  egotism  than  is  sane* 
tioned  by  decorum  in  some  other  cases.  One  may 
be  allowed  to  allude  to  one's  own  feelings  when  so 
pleasurably  associated  with  those  of  one's  correspon- 
dent. 

Brevity  is  quite  admissible  in  letters  both  of  con* 


TO  P0LITENES8   AND  FASHION.  257 

dolence  and  felicitation — referring,  as  they  properly 
do,  chiefly  to  one  topic ;  it  is  in  better  taste  not  to  intro- 
duce extraneous  matter  into  them,  especially  when 
they  are  of  a  merely  ceremonious  nature. 

Letters  to  Superiors  m  Station  or  Age  demand  a 
respectful  and  laconic  style.  No  familiarity  of 
address,  no  colloquialisms,  pleasantries,  or  digres- 
sions, are  admissible  in  them.  They  should  be  com- 
menced with  a  ceremoniously-respectful  address 
carefully  and  concisely  expressed,  and  concluded 
with  an  elaborate  formula,  of  established  phraseo- 
logy. The  name  of  the  person  to  whom  they  are 
written  should  be  place  near  the  lower,  left  hand 
edge  of  the  sheet,  together  with  his  ceremonious 
title,  etc.  No  abbreviations  of  words — and  none  of 
titles,  unsanctioned  by  established  usage,  should  be 
introduced  into  such  letters,  and  they  should  bear  at 
the  commencement,  below  the  date,  and  on  the  left 
hand  side  of  the  paper,  the  name  of  the  person  ad- 
dressed, thus : 

Washington  City,  Feb.  2c?,  1863. 

Honorable  Edward  Everett: — 
Sm, 


I  am,  sir, 

Yery  respectfully, 

Your  humble  servant, 
J.  F.  Carpenter. 
Hon.  Edward  Everett, 

Secretary  oi- State,  for  the  U.  S. 


258  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN  S   GUIDE 

Be  careful  to  remember  that  it  is  unsuitable  to 
commence  a  communication  to  an  entire  stranger 
an  official  letter,  or  one  of  ceremony,  in  reply  to  a 
gentleman  acting  in  the  name  of  a  committee,  etc., 
etc.,  with  "  Dear  Sir."  This  familiarity  is  wholly  out 
of  place  under  such  circumstances,  and  it  is  matter 
of  surprise  that  our  public  men  so  frequently  fall  into 
it,  even  in  addressing  public  functionaries  represent- 
ing foreign  countries  here,  etc.  In  this  respect,  as 
in  many  others,  their  "  quality."  as  that  most  dis- 
cerning satirist.  Punchy  has  recently  said  of  the  style 
of  one  of  our  men  in  high  office — is  not  '^  strained  P^ 
llie  veterans  of  Diplomatic  or  of  Congressional  life 
should  let  us  see  that  practice  has  refined  their  style 
of  speaking  and  writing,  rather  than  remind  us  that 
they  have  come  to  the  lees  of  intellect ! 

I  have,  for  several  years  past,  remarked  the  pub- 
lished letters  of  one  of  the  distinguished  meA  of  the 
Empire  State,  as  models  of  graceful  rhetoric  and 
good  taste.  I  refer  now,  not  to  the  political  opinions 
they  may  have  expressed,  but  to  their  literary  execu- 
tion. They  indicate  the  pen  of  genius — no  matter 
what  the  occasion — whether  declining  to  break 
ground  for  a  canal,  to  lay  the  corner-stone  of  a 
university,  acknowledging  a  public  serenade,  or 
expounding  a  political  dogma,  a  certain  indescrib- 
able something  always  redeems  them  alike  from  com- 
mon-place ideas,  and  from  inelegance  of  language. 
See  if  your  newspaper  profundity  will  enable  you  to 
"guess"  the  name  of  the  individual  to  whom  I 
refer. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  259 

DiplmnatiG  Letters  require  a  style  peculiar  to 
themselves,  in  relation  to  wbicli  it  would  be  the 
height  of  temerity  in  me  to  adventure  even  a  hint. 
The  Public  Documents  of  our  own  country  and  of 
England,  afford  models  for  those  of  you  who  shall 
have  occasion  for  them,  as  members  of  the  "  Corps 
Diplomatique." 

Letters  of  Friendship  mid  Affection  must,  of 
course,  vary  in  style  with  the  occasions  and  the 
correspondents  that  elicit  them.  A  light,  easy, 
playful  style  is  most  appropriate.  And  one  should 
aim  rather  at  correctness  of  diction  than  at  anything 
like  an  elaborate  parade  of  language. 

Grammatical  inaccuracies  and  vulgarisms  are 
never  allowable  among  educated  people,  whether 
in  speaking  or  writing ;  nor  is  defective  spelling 
excusable. 

Punctuation  and  attention  to  the  general  rules  of 
composition  should  not  be  overlooked,  as  thus  only 
can  unmistakable  intelligibleness  be  secured. 

Avoid  all  ambitious  pen-flourishes,  and  attempts 
at  ornamental  caligraphy,  and  aim  at  the  acquisition 
of  a  legible,  neat,  gentleman-like  hand,  and  a  pure, 
manly,  expressive  style,  in  this  most  essential  of  all 
forms  of  composition. 

The  possession  of  excellence  in  this  accomplish- 
ment will  enable  you  to  disseminate  high  social  and 
domestic  pleasure.  Nothing  affords  so  gratifying  a 
solace  to  friends,  when  separated,  as  the  reception 
of  those  tokens  of  remembrance  and  regard.  They 
only  who  have  wandered  far,  far  away  from  the  ties 


260 


of  country,  friends,  and  home,  can  fully  appreciate 
the  delight  afforded  by  the  reception  of  letters  of  a 
satisfactory  character.  And  the  welcome  assurances 
of  the  safety,  health,  and  happiness  of  the  absent 
and  loved,  is  the  best  consolation  of  home-friends. 

Practice^  jpatience,  and  tact^  are  equally  essential 
to  the  acquisition  of  ease  and  grace  in  this  desirable 
art.  Wit^  humor^  and  playfulness  are  its  proper 
embellishments,  and  variety  should  characterize  its 
themes.  A  certain  egotism^  too,  is  not  only  pardon- 
able, but  absolutely  requisite,  and  may  even  become 
delicately  complimentary  to  the  recipient  of  one's 
confidence. 

Let  me  remind  you,  too,  that — though  "  offence 
of  spoken  words  "  may  be  excused  by  the  excite- 
ment of  passing  feeling — the  deliberate  commission 
of  unkind,  or,  worse  still,  of  unjust,  untruthful, 
injurious  language,  to  paper,  argues  an  obliquity  of 
moral  vision  little  likely  to  secure  the  writer  either 

"  What  nothing  earthly  gives,  or  can  destroy, 
The  souVs  calm  sunshine^^ 

or  the  respect  and  regard  of  others. 

Facility  in  writing  familiar  letters  may  be  in- 
creased by  the  habit  of  mentally  recording,  before 
inditing  them,  as  opportunity  affords  material,  such 
incidents  of  travel,  items  of  personal  interest,  or 
gossiping  intelligence,  etc.,  as  may  be  thought  best 
suited  to  the  tastes  of  your  correspondents.  And 
it  is  well,  before  closing  such  communications,  not 
only  to  glance  over  them  to  satisfy  yourself  of  their 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION  261 

freedom  from  mistakes,  but  by  that  means  to  recall 
any  omission  occasioned  by  forgetfulness. 

Kotes  of  Invitation^  of  Acceptance^  and  Regret^ 
require,  of  course,  brevity  and  simplicity  of  expres- 
Bion.  The  prevailing  mode  of  the  society  you  are 
connected  with,  is  usually  the  proper  guide  in  rela- 
tion to  these  matters  of  form,  for  the  time  being. 
Thus  the  mere  formula  of  social  life  at  "Washington, 
Boston,  Charleston,  Paris,  or  St.  Petersburg,  may 
be  somewhat  varied,  as  usage  alone  frequently 
determines  these  niceties,  and  all  eccentricities  and 
peculiarities  in  this  respect,  as  in  most  others,  are  in 
bad  taste.  Cards,  or  Notes,  of  Invitation  to  Dinners 
and  Soirees,  are  frequently  printed,  and  merely 
names  and  dates  supplied  in  writing.  The  example 
of  the  hest  society  (in  the  most  elevated  sense  of 
that  much-abused  phrase)  everywhere,  sanctions 
only  the  most  unpretending  mode  of  expression  and 
general  style,  for  such  occasions.  The  utmost 
beauty  and  exquisiteness  of  finish  in  the  mere 
Tnaterial^  but  the  absence  of  all  pretentious  orna- 
ment, is  thought  most  unexceptionable. 

Invitations  to  Dinner  should  be  acknowledged  at 
your  earliest  convenience,  and — whether  accepted  or 
declined — in  courteously  ceremonious  phraseology. 
In  the  instance  of  invitations  *  to  Balls  and  Evening- 

*  I  vra8  somewhat  surprised  lately,  in  perusing  an  agreeable 
novel,  written  by  one  of  our  countrywomen,  to  observe  her  use  of 
the  word  "  ticket "  as  synonymous  with  invitation^  or  card  of  invita* 
Hon.  A  "  ticket "  admits  one  to  a  concert,  the  opera,  or  theatre ' 
but  one  receives  an  "  invitation^''^  or  "  card  pf  invitation  "  to  a  dinner, 


Parties,  Weddings,  etc.,  haste  is  Dot  so  essential ; 
but  a  seasonat)le  reply  to  such  civilities  should  by 
no  means  be  neglected. 

When  you  wish  to  take  a  friend — who  is  a 
stranger  to  the  hostess — with  you  to  an  evening 
entertainment,  and  are  upon  sufficiently  established 
terms  with  her  to  make  it  quite  proper  to  do  so, 
acknowledge  your  invitation  at  once,  and  request 
permission  to  take  your  friend — thus  affording  an 
opportunity,  if  it  is  requisite,  for  the  return  of  an 
invitation  enclosed  to  you  for  your  proposed  com- 
panion. Some  form  like  the  following  will  answer 
the  purpose ; 

Mr.  Thomas  Brown  has  the  honor  to  accept  Mrs 
Mason's  very  polite  invitation  for  next  Thursday 
evening. 

With  Mrs.  Mason's  permission,  Mr.  Brown  will 
be  accompanied  by  his  friend,  Mr.  Crawford,  of 
Cincinnati,  who  is  at  present  temporarily  in  New 
York. 

Carlton  House, 

Monday  morning^  December  28<A. 

Among  intimate  friends,  it  is  sometimes  most 
courteous,  when  declining  an  invitation^  in  place  of 
a  mere  formal  "  regret  "  to  indite  a  less  ceremonious 
note,  briefly  explanatory,  or  apologetic.    Essential 

ball,  or  evening-party,  at  a  friend's  house.  All  misnomers  of  thin 
kind  savor  of  under-breeding — they  are  vulgarisms^  iu  short,  unsanc- 
tioned either  by  taste  or  fashion. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  263 

good'hreeding  is  the  best  guide  in  these  occaBional 
deviations  from  ceremoneous  rules. 

Formal  notes  of  invitation,  and  the  like,  should 
not  be  addressed  to  several  persons  inclusively.  Of 
course,  a  gentleman  and  his  wife  are  invited  in 
this  inclusive  way,  as  are  the  unmarried  sisters  of  a 
family,  when  residing  in  the  same  house ;  but 
visitors  to  one's  friends,  a  married  lady  and  her 
daughters,  as  well  as  the  younger  gentlemen  of  a 
family,  should,  severally,  have  separate  notes,  di- 
rected to  them  individually,  where  ceremony  is 
requisite,  though  all  may,  for  convenience,  be 
enclosed  in  the  same  envelope,  with  a  general 
direction  to  the  elder  lady  of  the  house. 

Letters,  or  notes,  commenced  in  the  thii'd  person^ 
should  be  continued  throughout  in  the  same  form. 
It  is  obviously  incorrect  (though  of  frequent  occur- 
rence), to  adopt  such  phraseology  as — "Mr.  Small 
presents  his  compliments  to  Miss  Jones,"  etc.,  and 
to  conclude  with  "  Yours  respectfully,  G.  Small." 
This  mode  of  expression  (the  third  person),  is  only 
adapted  to  brief  communications  of  a  formal  nature. 
No  address  and  signature  are  required  when  the 
names  of  the  recipient  and  of  the  writer  are  intro- 
duced into  the  body  of  the  note,  as  they  necessarily 
are.  The  place  of  residence  (if  written),  and  the 
date,  are  placed  at  the  left  hand  side  of  the  paper, 
heloic  the  principal  contents. 

Letters  designed  to  be  mailed — such  as  are  written 
to  persons  living  at  a  distance  from  your  own  place 
of  residence — should  have  your  proper  mail  addresi 


264:  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

legibly  written  on  the  right  hand  side  of  your  sheet, 
above  the  rest  of  the  communication,  together  with 
the  date. 

Notes  addressed  to  persons  residing  in  the  same 
place  with  yourself,  require  only  the  name  of  the 
street  you  reside  in,  and  your  number,  with  the  day 
of  the  week — as  "  Clinton  Place,  Thursday  P.  M.," 
or,  "  No.  6  Great  Jones  st.,  Monday  morning  " — 
which  is  usually  placed  below  the  other  portions  of 
the  missive.  It  is  usual  to  write  short  notes  of  cere- 
mony so  as  to  have  the  few  lines  composing  them  in 
the  middle  of  the  small  sheet  used. 

Forms  of  signature  and  address  vary  in  accordance 
with  the  general  tenor  of  letters.  When  they  are  of 
an  entirely  ceremonious  character,  or  addressed  to 
superiors,  usage  requires  an  elaborate  address  and 
subscription ;  but  the  style  of  familiar  epistles  per- 
mits throughout  every  variety  of  language  that  good 
taste  and  good  feeling  may  invent  or  sanction.  Only 
let  there  be  a  general  harmony  in  your  compositions. 
Do  not  fall  into  the  inadvertency  of  the  person  who 
addressed  a  missive  full  of  the  most  tender  expres- 
sions of  regard  to  his  mistress,  and  signed  it — 
"  Yours  respectfully,  Clark,  Smith  &  Co." 

Legibility,  Intelligibility,  and  Accuracy  are  requi 
site  in  the  direction  of  all  epistolary  compositions. 

Correct  taste  demands  some  attention  to  the  sub- 
ject of  Writing-Materials.  It  is  now  becoming  the 
practice  to  use  small-sized  paper  for  communications 
of  ceremony  and  friendship,  continuing  the  contents 
through  several  sheets,  if  necessary,  and  numbering 


TO   POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  265 

each  in  proper  succession.  It  is,  also,  usual  to 
write  ceremonious  letters  on  but  one  side  of  a  sheet, 
and  to  leave  a  wide  margin  upon  the  left  hand 
side,  and  a  narrower  one  on  the  opposite  edge  of  the 
paper. 

The  finest,  smoothest  paper  should  always  be  used, 
except  for  mere  business  matters ;  and,  though  some 
passing  fashion  may  sanction  tinted  paper,  pure  white 
is  always  unexceptionable.  All  fancy  ornaments, 
colored  designs,  etc.,  etc.,  are  in  questionable  taste. 
If  ornamental  bordering,  or  initinl  lettering  is 
adopted,  the  most  chaste  and  unpretending  should 
be  preferred. 

Except  for  mailing^  envelopes  should  correspond 
exactly  with  the  sheet  inclosed.  Envelopes  sent 
by  post  should  be  strong  and  large-sized.  Sometimes 
it  is  well  to  re-enclose  a  small  envelope,  corresponding 
with  the  written  sheet,  in  a  large,  firm  cover,  and  to 
write  the  full  direction  upon  that. 

Sealing  wax  should  always  be  used  for  closing  all 
epistles,  except  those  of  an  entirely  business  nature. 
Stamps  and  seals  may  vary  with  taste.  A  plain 
form  with  an  unbroken  face,  suflaces ;  or  initials,  a 
device  and  motto,  one  or  both ;  or  hereditary  heral- 
dic designs  may  be  preferred. 

Letters  intended  to  go  by  mail  on  the  continent  of 
Europe,  should  be  written  on  a  single,  large  sheet  of 
thin  paper,  and  not  enveloped. 

It  is  as  iU-hred  not  to  reply  to  a  communication 
requiring  an  acknowledgment,  or  to  neglect  proper 
attention  to  all  the  several  matters  of  importa/iice  to 

12 


266  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUmB 

which  it  relates^  as  %t  is  not  to  answer  a  question 
directly  and  personally  addressed  to  you. 

Promptitude  is  also  demanded  bj  good-breeding, 
in  this  regard.  Necessity  only  can  excuse  the  impo- 
liteness of  subjecting  a  friend,  or  business-correspon- 
dent, to  inconvenience  or  anxiety,  occasioned  by 
delay  in  replying  to  important  letters. 

Tyros  in  epistolary  composition  may  derive  advan- 
tage from  noting  the  peculiar  excellences  of  the 
published  letters  of  celebrated  authors  and  others ; 
not  for  the  purpose  of  servile  imitation,  but  as  aflford- 
ing  useful  general  models,  or  guides.  Miscellaneous 
readers  may  note  the  genial  humor  and  patient  ela- 
borateness characterizing  the  letters  of  the  "  Great 
Unknown,"  the  felicities  of  expression  sometimes 
observable  in  the  familiar  missives  of  Byron,  and  of 
his  friend  Tom  Moore  (when  the  latter  is  not  writing 
to  his  much-put-upon  London  publisher  for  table-sup- 
plies, etc. !)  amuse  himself  with  the  gossiping  capacity 
for  details  exhibited  by  those  of  Horace  Walpole, 
and  con,  with  wondering  admiration,  the  epistolary 
illustrations  of  the  well-disciplined,  thoronghlj-ba- 
lanced  character  of  the  gi*eat  American  model,  of 
whose  writings  it  may  always  be  said — whether  an 
"  order,"  written  on  a  drum-head,  or  the  draught  of  a 
document  involving  the  interests  of  all  humanity  is 
the  subject — that  they  are  "  well  doneP 

Among  the  collections  of  letters  I  remember  to 
have  read,  none  now  occur  to  me  as  offering  more 
variety  of  style  than  those  included  in  the  "  Memoirs 
of  H.  More."     They  are  a  little  old-fashioned  now, 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  26T: 

perhaps;  but  some  of  them,  both  for  matter  and 
manner,  are,  in  their  way,  unsurpassed  in  English 
literature.  Some  of  those  of  Sir  W.  W.  P&pys^  I 
recollect  as  peculiarly  pleasing. 

Several  of  the  published  letters  of  Dr.  Johnson, 
and  one  or  two  of  those  of  our  own  Franklin,  are  to 
be  regarded  as  among  the  curiosities  of  literature, 
rather  than  as  precedents  which  circumstances  will 
ever  render  available,  or  desirable.  Johnson's  cele- 
brated letter  to  Lord  Chesterfield,  declining  his  prof- 
fered patronage,  for  instance — and  Franklin's,  con- 
cluding with  the  witty  sarcasm — "  You  are  now  my" 
enemy,  and  I  am 

"Yours,  B.  Franklin." 

At  some  future  time,  perhaps,  the  literary  trea-, 
Bures  of  our  country  will  be  enriched  by  specimens 
of  the  correspondence  of  such  of  our  contemporaries 
as  inspire  the  highest  admiration  for  their  general 
style  of  composition.  Who  could  fail  to  peruse  with 
interest,  letters  from  the  pen  of  Prescott,  who  never 
makes  even  such  a  physical  infirmity  as  his,  a  plea 
for  inaccuracy,  or  carelessness  of  expression?  And 
who  would  not  hail  with  delight  any  draught  pre- 
sented by  the  bounteous  hand  of  Irving,  from, 

"  The  weU  of  English  undefiled;' 

whence   he  himself  has  long  quaffed   the  highest 
inspiration  I 


268  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUmE 


"There  tliey  are!"  shouted  James. 

"  Here  they  come !"  exclaimed  Miss  Mary  Mars* 
ton, 

"  They  have  made  good  time,  the  lazy  dogs,  for 
once !"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  !"  echoed  the  silvery  cadences 
of  Nettie  Brown,  who  seemed  about  to  dance  to  the 
music  of  her  own  merry  voice. 

"I  hope" began  the  dove-like  murmur  of  a 

fair  invalid :  she  ceased,  and  her  dewy  eyes  told  all 
she  would  have  said. 

"  God  grant  us  good  news !"  said  our  venerable 
co7npagno7i  de  voyage,  fervently,  a  shade  of  anxiety 
clouding  his  usually  benignant  countenance. 

"  Ladies,  excuse  me !  I  beg  you  to  remember 
that  they  may  not  bring  anything — ^let  me  prepare 
you  for  a  disappointment!"  These  words  were 
littered,  with  apparent  reluctance,  by  a  young  man, 
whose  pale  face  and  dark  melancholy  eyes  seemed 
to  lend  almost  prophetic  emphasis  to  his  warning 
tones. 

Nettie  ceased  to  clap  her  little  hands;  "Jovial 
James "  looked  as  grave  as  his  usually  rollicking, 
fun-twinkling  eyes  permitted;  the  stately  Mary 
could  only  look  fixedly  towards  the  approaching 
Arabs,  the  serenity  of  our  patriarchal  friend  was 
more  than  ever  disturbed;  sweet  Isidore  grew 
marble  pale,  and  leaned  heavily  back  upon  the  sculp- 
tured pillar  against  which  we  had  secured  her  camp- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  269 

seat,  and  your  uncle  Hal — well !  lie  is  a  "  proverbial 
philosopher,"  you  know  I 

There  we  were,  amid  the  solemn  magnificence  of 
the  ruined  palaces  and  temples  of  once-mighty 
Thebes. 

Our  little  party  was  gathered  in  front  of  the  great 
Propylon  of  the  famous  Temple  of  Luxor,  whose 
mysterious  grandeur  we  had  come  many  thousands 
of  miles  to  behold.  Massive  pillars,  covered  with 
minutely-finished  picture-writing  and  mystic  hiero- 
glyphics, sufficient  for  the  life-long  study  of  the 
curious  student ;  enormous  architraves,  half-buried 
colossi,  far-reaching  colonnades,  "  grand,  gloomy  and 
peculiar ;"  the  world-famed  Memnon ;  the  grim, 
tomb-hallowed  mountains — all  the  wonders  of  the 
Nile,  of  El  Wcsorein^  of  Karnac,  surrounded  us ! 

But  humiliating  reflections  upon  the  mutability  of 
human  greatness  and  human  power,  the  eager  specu- 
lations of  the  disciples  of  Champollion,  sarcophagi 
and  sculptured  ceilings,  and  scarabsei  and  Sesostris, 
alike  sunk  into  matters  of  insignificance  and  indif- 
ference when  compared  with  the  expectation  of 
Letters  from  Home  ! 

That  most  amiable  and  hospitable  of  Mussulmans, 
Mustapha  Aga,  the  traveller's  friend^  had  engaged 
the  Sheik  (heaven  spare  the  mark !)  of  one  of  the 
squalid  Arab  villages,  whose  mud  walls  cluster 
upon  the  roofs  of  the  grand  halls  and  porticoes  of 
ancient  Thebes — reminding  one  of  animalculcB  by 
comparison — to  accompany  my  servant  and  one  or 


270  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   QJJIDB 

two  of  our  dusky  satellites  to  a  point  in  the 
vicinity,  to  which  the  American  and  English  consuls 
at  Cairo  had  engaged  to  forward  oui  letters,  etc. 

Our  motley  band  of  couriers  was  now  seen 
advancing  along  the  low  bank  of  the  river,  and  all 
was  eager  anticipation  and  impatience. 

The  ceremony  of  distribution  was  speedily  accom 
plished,  and  an  observer  of  the  scene,  like  our  calm, 
silent  host,  the  kindly  Mustapha,  might  almost  read 
the  contents  of  the  different  letters  of  the  several 
members  of  our  little  group  reflected  in  the  faces  of 
each. 

"  Jovial  James  "  sunk  down  at  once  at  the  feet  of 
the  fair  ITettie,  who  had  sacrilegiously  seated  herself 
upon  the  edge  of  an  open  sarcophagus,  with  a  lap 
full  of  treasures,  before  which  her  hoarded  antiques 
— and  she  was  the  most  indefatigable  collector  of  our 
corps — relapsed  again  into  the  nothingness  from 
which  her  admiration  had,  for  a  time,  redeemed 
them.  Something  very  much  like  a  tear  glistened 
in  the  bright  eyes  of  the  frolicksome  youth  as  he 
murmured,  half-unconsciously  "  Mother,"  and  sun- 
shine and  shadow  played  in  quick  succession  over 
the  mirroring  features  of  the  fair  girl. 

The  usually  placid  Mary  Marston  fairly  turning 
her  back  upon  us,  beat  a  retreat  towards  a  prostrate 
column  and,  half-concealed  herself  among  its  crumb- 
ling fragments ;  and  our  sweet,  fast-fading  flower,  for 
whose  comfort  each  vied  with  the  other,  the  beauti- 
ful Isidore,  clasped  her  triple  prizes  between  her 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  27i 

slight  palms,  and  folding  them  to  her  meek  bosom, 
lifted  her  soft  ejes  toward  the  heaven  that  looked 
iilike  on  Egypt  and  on  her  native  land,  and  whisper- 
ed '-'- Home!  Oh,   father  take  me  HomeP^ 

"Not  one  word  does  Frank  say  about  remit- 
tances— the  most  important  of  all  subjects !"  cried 
James,  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  and  a  half-filled 
sheet  held  out  before  him  in  both  hands.  "  He  is 
the  most  provoking  fellow  ! — just  look,  J^ettie,  how 
much  blank  paper,  too,  sent  all  the  way  from  Man- 
hattan Island  to  Upper  Egypt,"  he  added,  with  a 
serio-comic  tap  on  the  paper. 

"  Good  enough  for  you !"  retorted  his  frequent 
tormentor  ;  "  you  wouldn't  write  from  Kome  to  him, 
as  I  begged  you  to  " 

"  But,  most  amiable  Miss  Consolation  '  on  a  monvr 
ment^  smiling  at  grief,'  don't  you  recollect  that  you 
favored  him  with  three  '  great  big  '  sheets,  crammed, 
crossed,  and  kissed  " 

"  Do  go  away,  James  Wilson  !  you  are  a  regular 
squatter^  as  they  say  at  home ;  really,  if  you  are  not 
established  on  my  skirt !"  laughed  his  merry  com- 
panion, reddening,  however,  at  his  skillful  sally. 

James,  well  used  to  repulses,  made  not  even  a 
pretence  of  removing  his  quarters ;  but,  tracing  with 
his  forefinger  in  the  sand,  began  to  tease  his  pretty 
neighbor  for  news  from  home,  protesting  that  men 
were  the  poorest  letter-writers,  and  that  his  corres- 
pondents in  particular,  never  said  anything  ! 

But  what  had  become  of  the  thoughtful  friend, 


272 


whose  warning  voice  had  checked  too  eager  expecta» 
tion  in  his  companions,  whilst 

"  thou,  oh  Hope,  with  eyes  so  fair," 


made  wild  tumult  jn  each  eager  breast  ?  I  marked 
his  face,  as  he  stood  apart  from  the  excited  group 
gathered  about  the  bearer  of  our  dispatches.  It  was 
almost  as  immobile  and  coldly  calm  as  those  of  the 
polished  colossi  around  us,  save  for  the  burning  eyes 
that  seemed  actually  to  devour  the  several  directions 
that  were  glanced  over,  or  read  aloud  by  others.  His 
hands,  too,  were  tightly  clutched,  as  though  he  were 
thus  self-sustained.— Poor  fellow  !  I  had  frequently 
noticed  his  manner  before,  where  the  happiness  of 
others  arrested  attention ;  it  indicated,  to  me,  a 
serenity  like  that  of  the  expiring  hero  who  waved 
his  life-draught  to  another,  hiding,  with  a  smile,  the 
outward  signs  of  tortured  nature  I  Almost  before 
the  last  package  was  unfolded,  he  was  advancing 
with  rapid  strides  along  the  majestic  avenue  leading 
from  our  stand-point  towards  the  ruins  of  Karnac, 
and  was  soon  lost  to  sight  amid  its  massive  orna- 
ments. How  easily  might  some  friendly  hand  have 
shed  balm  upon  his  sad  and  solitary  spirit,  on  that 
memorable  day  in  far-off  Nile-Land,  when  so 
many  hearts  were  gladdened  with  the  sweet  sun- 
light enkindled  by  letters  / — so  many  faces  illumined 
with  smiles  reflected  from  the  ever-glowing  altars  of 
Country  and  Home  I 


TO  POLITENESS   ANP  FASHION.  273 


Sir  Walter  Scott,  as  liis  son-in-law  informed  me, 
despite  the  vast  amount  of  intellectual  labor  he 
otherwise  imposed  upon  himself,  with  as  little  flinch- 
ing, apparently,  as  though  his  mind  were  a  powerful 
self-regulating  steam-engine,  had  the  habit  of  always 
answering  letters  on  the  day  of  their  reception ! 
Mr.  Lockliart  told  me  that,  during  the  researches  he 
made  among  the  private  papers  of  his  immortal 
friend,  while  preparing  materials  for  his  biography, 
he  almost  invariably  remarked,  from  the  careful 
notations  upon  them,  that  when  any  delay  had 
occurred  in  replying  to  a  letter,  it  arose  from  the 
necessity  of  some  previous  investigation,  or  the  like. 
My  astonishment  upon  perusing  the  long,  elabo- 
rately-written epistles  that  Mr.  Lockhart  subsequently 
gave  to  the  world,  was  augmented  by  my  knowledge 
of  this  fact,  and  by  my  remembrance  of  the  innu- 
merable demands  made  upon  his  time  by  social  and 
public  duties.  But  "  we  ne'er  shall  look  on  his  like 
again  !"  Well  might  his  pen  be  styled  the  wand  of 
the  mighty  Wizard  of  the  Korth. 


A  gentle  tap  at  the  library-door  interrupted  the 
after-dinner  chat  of  my  old  friend  and  myself.  A 
fair  young  face  presented  itself  in  answer  to  the  bid- 
ding of  ray  host,  and,  upon  seeing  me  was  quickly 
withdrawn. 

"  Come  in,  my  daughter,  come — ^what  will  you 
have  ?" 

12* 


St* 


I  rose  immediately  to  withdraw,  as  the  young 
lady,  thus  encouraged,  somewhat  timidly  advanced 
towards  her  father. 

"  Pray,  do  not  disturb  yourself,  Colonel  Lunettes," 
said  she  ;  ^  I  only  want  to  speak  to  pa  one  moment ; 
don't  think  of  going  away,  I  beg  " 

My  host,  too,  interposed  to  prevent  my  leaving  the 
room,  and  I,  therefore,  took  up  a  book  and  re-seated 
myself. 

"  Excuse  me  for  interrupting  you,  pa,  but  may 
I " — here  a  whisper,  and  then  so  audibly  that  I 
could  not  help  overhearing — "  do  please,  dear  pa !" 

"  "Well,  we'll  see  about  it — when  is  the  concert  1" 
rang  out  the  clear  voice  of  the  father. 

"  But,  pa,  I  ought  to  answer  the  note  to-night  or 
very  early  to-morrow  morning — it  would  not  be 
polite  to  keep  Mr.  Blakeman  " 

"A  note,  eh?"  interrupted  the  old  gentleman, 
*'  let  me  see  it — go  bring  it  to  me." 

I  thought  I  could  not  be  mistaken  in  the  indica- 
tion of  reluctance  to  obey  this  direction  evinced  by 
the  slow  step  of  my  usually  sprightly-motioned  young 
favorite. 

"  Come,  Fanny,  come,"  said  her  father,  when  she 
re-entered,    "you    have    no   objection  to  showing 


"  Oh,  no,  indeed,  pa, — ^but  you  are  so  critical,"  the 
young  lady  began  to  protest. 

"  Critical !  am  I  though !"  exclaimed  the  parent, 
with  some  vivacity,  "  perhaps  so — at  least  I  judge 
Boraewhat,  of  a  man's  claims  to  the  acquaintance  of 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  2T5 

my  daugliter  by  these  things."  And,  adjusting  his 
spectacles,  he  opened  the  note  his  daughter  offered. 
"  Bless  my  soul !"  he  cried,  at  the  first  glance,  "  what 
bright-colored  paper,  and  how  many  grand  flour- 
ishes ! — really,  my  dear !"  There  was  a  brief  silence 
and  then  the  father  said  mildly,  but  firmly,  "  Fanny, 
I  prefer  that  you  should  not  accept  this  invitation." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  why,  pa  ?" 

"  Because  the  writer  is  not  a  gentlema/n  !  No  mau 
of  taste  and  refinement  would  write  such  a  note  as 
this  to  a  lady,  with  whom  he  has  only  the  ceremo- 
nious acquaintance  that  this  young  man  has  with 
you.  He  is  evidently  illiterate^  too, — his  note  is  not 
only  inelegantly  expressed,  but  it  is  mis-spelled  " 

"Oh,  pa" 

"  I  assure  you  it  is  so.  Your  own  education  is 
more  defective  than  it  should  be  with  the  advantages 
you  have  had,  if  you  cannot  perceive  this — read  it 
again,  and  tell  me  what  word  is  mis-spelled,"  said  her 
father,  returning  the  production  under  discussion  to 
Fanny. 

The  young  lady  sat  down  by  the  lamp  to  con  the 
task  assigned  her,  and  my  host  said  to  me — "  It  is 
unpardonable,  now-a-days,  for  a  young  man  to  be 
ioTiorant  in  such  matters  as  these.     "When  we  were 

o  

young,  Hal,  the  means  of  acquiring  knowledge  gen- 
erally, were  limited  by  circumstances ;  but  who  that 
wishes,  lacks  them  at  present? — ^Well,  my  daugh- 
ter " 

"Yes,  pa,  I  see, — of  course  it  was  a  mere  slip  of 
the  pen" 


276 

"A  slip  of  the  pen  !"  retorted  the  father,  "and  is 
that  a  sufficient  excuse  ?  Proper  respect  will  teach  a 
young  man  of  right  feelings  towards  your  sex, 
to  take  good  care  that  no  such  carelessness  retains  a 
place  in  his  first  billet  to  a  lady — it  is  an  indication 
of  character^  my  child !  Depend  upon  it,  that  the 
man  w^ho  writes  in  this  way, — encircling  some  of  his 
words  with  a  flourish,  abbreviating  others,  mis-spel- 
ling, and  all  upon  mottled  paper,  with  a  highly 
ornate  border,  does  not  understand  himself,  and  will 
be  guilty  of  other  solecisms  in  good  manners  and 
good  taste,  that  will  be  very  likely  to  embarrass  and 
shock  a  young  lady  accustomed  to  " 

"  The  society  of  gentlemen  of  the  old  school^  like 
pa  and  Col.  Lunettes!"  exclaimed  Fanny,  in  her 
usual  laughing  manner,  snatching  up  the  condemned 
missive,  and  flying  out  of  the  room. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  my  old  friend  and  I 
joined  the  ladies  in  the  drawing-room. 

A  merry  group  around  a  centre-table,  attracted 
me,  and  as  the  fair  Fanny  made  a  place  beside  her 
agreeable  little  self  for  me,  I  was  soon  settled  to  my 
satisfaction  in  the  midst  of  the  fair  bevy. 

"  What  are  you  all  so  busy  about  ?"  I  inquired,  aa 
I  seated  myself. 

"  Oh,  criticising!"  cried  one. 

"  Acquiring  knowledge  under  difficulties,"  replied 
another. 

"  Accomplishing  ourselves  in  the  Art  Epistolary, 
by  the  study  of  models  I"  returned  a  third. 

And  sure  cnongh, — the  table  was    strewed  with 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  277 

cards,  and  notes,  and  an  empty  fancy-basket  told 
where  these  sportive  critics  had  obtained  their  mate- 
rials. I  soon  gathered  that  the  scrutiny  Fanny'3 
note  had  undergone  in  the  library,  was  the  moving 
cause  of  this  sudden  resuscitation  of  defunct  billet- 
doux  and  forgotten  cards. 

"  Only  look  at  this  one,  Col.  Lunettes !"  exclaimed 
a  pretty  girl  opposite  me,  handing  across  a  visiting 
card,  with  the  name  written  with  ink,  in  rather 
cramped  characters,  and  surrounded  with  a  variety 
of  awkward  attempts  at  ornamental  flourishes.  "  Isn't 
that  suflacient  to  condemn  the  perpetrator  to  '  du- 
rance vile '  in  the  jparadise  of  fools  .^" 

"  Well,  here  is  a  beautiful  note,  at  any  rate," 
exclaimed  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  house,  "  even 
papa  would  not  find  fault  with  this  " — 

"What  are  you  saying  about  papa?"  inquired  the 
master  of  the  mansion,  pausing  in  his  walk  up  and 
down  the  room,  and  leaning  upon  the  back  of  his 
daughter's  chair. 

"Won't  you  join  ns,  sir?"  returned  the  young 
lady,  making  a  motion  to  rise ;  "  let  me  give  you  my 
seat." 

"  l^To,  no,  sit  still,  child — ^let  us  hear  the  note  that 
you  think  unexceptionable." 

"  It  is  as  simple  as  possible,"  said  she,  "  but  though 
it  only  relates  to  a  matter  of  business,  I  remember 
noticing,  when  I  opened  it,  the  elegant  writing 
and". 

"Well,  let  us  hear  it,  my  daughter." 

Thus  impelled,  the  fair  reader  began  : 


278 

"  Heniy  "Wynkoop  presents  his  respectful  compli- 
ments to  Miss  Campbell,  and  begs  leave  to  inform 
her  that  the  goods  for  which  she  inquired,  a  few 
days  since,  have  arrived,  and  are  now  ready  for  her 
inspection. 

"  240  Main  St., 
Wednesday  Morning^  May  22<f." 

"I  should  have  said,"  added  Miss  Campbell, 
"  that  I  had  simply  requested  Mr.  Wynkoop  to  send 
me  word  about  some  shawls,  when  any  of  the  family 
happened  in  there,  and  did  not  think  of  troubling 
him  to  send  a  note." 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  her  father,  taking  the  paper 
from  her  hand,  "yes!  just  what  one  might  expect 
from  that  young  fellow — ^fine,  handsome,  plain  paper 
[a  glance  at  poor  Fanny]  and  a  neat  modest  seal 
— all  because  a  lady  was  in  question ;  and  one  can 
read  the  writing  as  if  it  were  print.  Look  at  it, 
Lunettes !  A  promising  young  merchant — a  friend 
of  ours,  here.  An  educated  merchant — what  every 
man  should  be,  who  wishes  to  succeed  in  mercantile 
life  in  this  country." 

"  Yes,"  returned  I,  "  ours  is  destined,  if  I  do  not 
greatly  mistake,  to  be  a  land  of  merchant  princes, 
like  Yenice  of  old,  and  I  quite  agree  with  you  that 
A^merican  merchants  should  be  educated  gentle- 
7r^en .'" 

"  This  young  Wynkoop,"  continued  my  friend,  "  is 
destined  yet  to  fill  some  space  in  the  world's  eye, 
vnless  I  have  lost  my  power  to  judge  of  men.     He 


TO  P0LITENES8   AND  FASHION.  279 

geems  to  find  time  for  everything — the  other  evening 
he  was  here — (the  girls  had  some  young  friends) — 
and,  happening  to  step  into  the  library,  I  fonnd  him 
standing  with  one  of  the  book-cases  open,  and  just 
reaching  down  a  volume — *  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir, 
if  I  intrude,'  said  he,  '  but  I  was  going  to  look  for 
a  passage  in  the  "  Deserted  Yillage,"  as  I  am  not  so 
fortunate  as  to  possess  a  copy  of  Goldsmith.'  Of 
course  I  assured  him  that  the  books  were  all  at  his 
service,  and  apologized  for  closing  the  door,  and  seat- 
ing myself  at  my  desk,  saying  that  a  rascally  Cana- 
dian lawyer  had  sent  me  a  letter  so  badly  written 
that  I  could  scarcely  puzzle  it  out,  and  that  his  bad 
French  was  almost  unintelligible  at  that.  I  confess 
I  was  surprised  when  he  offered  to  assist  me,  saying 
very  modestly,  that  nothing  was  more  confusing 
than  patois  to  the  uninitiated,  but  that  he  had 
chanced  to  have  some  experience  in  it.  So  he 
helped  me  out  very  cleverly,  in  spite  of  my  protesta- 
tions at  his  losing  so  much  time,  and  when  he  found 
he  could  not  aid  me  farther,  looked  up  his  lines,  put 
back  my  book,  and  quietly  bowing,  slipped  out  of 
the  room.  When  I  went  back  to  the  girls,  later  in 
the  evening,  I  heard  my  young  friend  singing  with 
some  lady,  in  a  fine  clear  voice,  and,  soon  after, 
discovered  him  in  another  room  dancing,  'money 
mush '  with  my  own  wife  for  his  partner  I" 

While  this  little  sketch  was  in  progress  of  narra* 
tion,  the  inspection  of  the  miscellaneous  display  upon 
the  table  had  been  silently  progressing.  And  each 
pretty  critic  had  made  some  discovery. 


280  THE   AMERICAN  GENTLEMAh's  GUIDE 

"  Here  is  a  '  regret '  sent  for  the  other  niglit,"  said 
Fanny,  "  what  do  you  think  of  that,  Col.  Lunettes?'* 
And  a  large  sheet  of  note  paper  was  put  into  my 
hand,  clumsily  folded,  and  containing  only  the 
words  "  Mr.  Augustus  Simpkin  regrets." 

"  A  good  deal  is  left  for  the  imagination,"  I  re- 
plied, "  regrets  what  ?" 

"  That  he  is  a  numskull^  perhaps,  but  I  fear  there 
is  not  that  encouragement  for  his  improvement!" 
broke  in  the  Chairman  of  this  Committee  of  Investi- 
gation. 

The  general  laugh  that  followed  this  spicy  comment 
had  no  sooner  subsided,  than  another  note  caught 
my  eye,  by  its  handsome  penmanship.  Glancing  it 
over,  I  handed  it  to  one  of  the  young  ladies  without 
comment.  She  *  looked  unutterable  things,'  as  sho 
quietly  refolded  the  missive,  and  was  about  to  slip  it 
out  of  sight;  but  the  dancing  eyes  of  the  lively 
Fanny  had  caught  the  whole  movement,  and  sho 
insisted  upon  what  she  called  fair  play.  So  the 
paper  was  again  subjected  to  perusal — this  time 
aloud. 

Baltimore,  Jtdy  24,  '61, 

*'  William  Jones  takes  this  means  of  making  an 
apology  for  not  calling  for  Miss  Mary  last  evening. 
I  assure  you  no  ofience  was  intended,  and  hope  you 
did  not  take  it  so. 

"  Yours  afiectionately, 

"  P.  William  Jones. 
"The  Miss  Campbells." 


TO  P0LITEITES9   AND  FASHION.  281 

"  How  did  that  get  into  the  card-basket  ?"  exclaim- 
ed Miss  Campbell,  in  consternation,  "it  ought  to 
have  been  destroyed  at  the  time  " 

"  It  has  risen  up  in  judgment  against  the  writer 
now,"  said  Fanny,  "  but  he  is  much  improved  since 
then.  He  knows  better  now  than  to  say  ^  the  Mis 
Canvpbells^^  or  " 

"  Or  sign  himself '  Yours  affectionately,'  to  a  docu- 
ment commenced  in  the  third  person.  So  he  does, 
child,  and  he  proved  himself  essentially  polite  by 
writing  the  note — the  hand  is  really  very  commend- 
able. I  have  no  doubt  the  young  man  will  yet 
acquire  considerable  note-ability  P^  And  throwing 
the  tell-tale  paper  into  the  fire,  the  charitable  com- 
mentator proceeded  in  his  walk. 

uj^  <p^opos  " — "J.  jpropos  "  was  echoed  round  the 
merry  circle,  as  a  servant  handed  a  note  to  Miss 
Campbell. 

"Miss  Fanny  Campbell,"  read  her  sister,  and 
resigned  the  billet  to  its  rightful  owner. 

Every  one  protested  that  it  should  be  common 
property,  unless  its  contents  were  a  secret ;  and  the 
blushing,  half-pouting  beauty  was  constrained  to 
open  and  inspect  her  note  where  she  sat. 

"  I  insist  upon  fair  play  in  Miss  Fanny's  case, 
also,"  said  I,  coming  to  the  rescue,  "  and  shall  do 
myself  the  honor  of  acting  as  her  champion."  With 
that  I  spread  out  her  gossamer  handkerchief,  and 
throwing  it  over  the  top  of  my  cane,  affected  to 
screen  the  rosy  face  beside  me.  Taking  advantage 
of  my  ruse^  my  pretty  favorite  opened  her  note,  and, 


282  THE   AMERICAN    GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

partly  retreating  behind  my  broad  shoulder,  booe 
possessed  herself  of  its  contents. 

"  There,"  said  she,  throwing  it  into  the  middle  of 
the  table,  "  you  may  all  read  it  and  welcome  !" 

Brown  heads  and  black,  sunny  curls  and  chestnut 
"  bands,"  were  immediately  clustered  together  over 
the  prize,  and  Fanny,  springing  away,  like  a  bird, 
was,  in  a  moment,  perched  on  an  arm  of  the  large 
chair  in  which  her  father  was  now  ensconced,  with 
her  arm  around  his  neck,  and  her  beaming  eyes 
glancing  out  from  his  snowy  locks. 

"  Let  Colonel  Lunettes  see  it,  you  rude  creatures  I" 
exclaimed  my  lively  favorite,  from  her  retreat,  and 
the  note  was  immediately  presented  to  me.  Wiping 
my  glasses  with  deliberation  suitable  to  the  occa- 
sion, I  "  pressed  my  hand  upon  my  throbbing  heart," 
and  read  as  follows : 

"  It  will  afford  Mr.  Howard  Parkman  great  plea- 
sure to  attend  Miss  Fanny  Campbell  to  a  Concert  to 
be  given  by  the  "  Hungarian  Family,"  to-morrow 
evening. 

"  If  she  will  permit  him  that  honor,  Mrs.  and  Miss 
Parkman,  accompanied  by  Mr.  P.,  will  call  for  Miss 
Campbell  at  half  past  seven  o  clock. 

"  Coleman  St., 

"  Tuesday  P.  Jf." 

"  That's  another  rival  for  you,  Colonel  Lunettes," 
exclaimed  one  of  the  girls. 

"  I  fear  my  doom  is  sealed  !"  returned  the  old  sol- 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  283 

dier  thus  addressed,  with  an  air  of  mock  resignation. 
"  But  who  is  this  formidable  youth,  Miss  Camp- 
bell?" 

"A  Bostonian,  I  believe,"  replied  the  young 
lady;  "  cousin  Charley  introduced  him  to  us  at 
Hrs.  Gay's  ball  the  other  evening,  and  asked  us  to 
call  upon  his  mother  and  sister — they  are  friends  of 
ills.  He  was  here  this  morning  with  cousin  Char- 
ley, but  we  were  out." 

"  How  stylish !"  said  one  of  our  critical  circle, 
re-examining  the  elegant  billet  of  the  stranger. 

"Quite  au  fait,  too,  you  see,  young  ladies,"  I 
added,  "  he  invites  Miss  Fanny  to  go  with  a  proper 
chaperon  to  the  concert,  as  he  is  so  slightly  ac- 
quainted with  her." 

As  I  limped  across  the  room  towards  them,  I  heard 
my  friend  say  to  his  daughter,  who  still  retained  her 
seat,  "  certainly,  unless  you  prefer  to  go  with  Mr. 
Blakeman." 

"  Oh,  pa !"  protested  the  sweet  girl,  "  but  what 
excuse  shall  I  make  to  Mr.  Blakeman  ?" 

"  Tell  him,  in  terms,  that  your  father  does  not  per- 
mit you  to  go  anywhere,  alone,  with  a  young  man 
with  whom  he  has  no  acquaintance — Lunettes,  you're 
not  going?"  rising  as  he  spoke. 

"  It  is  high  time — my  carriage  must  be  waiting. 
Miss  Fanny,  permit  me  the  privilege  of  an  old 
friend," — kissing  her  glowing  cheek— and,  as  she 
.  skipped  out  into  the  hall  with  her  father  and  me,  I 
whispered — "  About  this  young  Bostonian  ?  Is  it 
all  over  with  him  ?" 


284  THE   AMERICAN  GENTLEMAn's   OUroB 

"What,  Hal — jealous?"  exclaimed  her  father, 
laughing — "do  you  fear  the  flight  of  our  gazelle, 
here  ?" 

"  'No  danger  of  my  eloping !  ISTo,  indeed  !  at  least 
with  any  one  except — Colonel  Lunettes  P'^  replied 
the  charming  little  witch,  as  her  nimble  fingers  fas- 
tened my  wrappings. 

"  Bravo  !"  cried  her  father  ;  "  that  would  be  glo- 
rious !     Seventeen  and  " 

"  Eighty-two,"  interrupted  your  old  uncle ;  "  May 
and  December !  But,  happily  for  me,  fair  Fanny, 
my  heart  can  never  grow  old  while  I  have,  the  hap- 
piness of  knowing  you." 


I  hope  none  of  you  will  ever,  even  when  writing 
in  a  foreign  language,  fall  into  the  mistake  made  by 
a  young  Pole,  with  whom  I  once  had  a  slight 
acquaintance.  He  was  paying  his  addresses  to  a 
young  lady,  and,  while  most  assiduously  making  his 
court  to  the  fair  object  of  his  passion,  was  tempora- 
Tily  separated  from  her,  by  her  leaving  home  on  a 
pleasure  excursion.  At  the  first  stopping-place  of 
her  party,  the  lady  found  a  letter  awaiting  her, 
written  in  the  neatest  manner,  and  in  excellent  Eng- 
lish— which  her  lover  spolte  in  a  mry  imperfect  man- 
ner. It  appeared  to  the  recipient  of  this  complimen- 
tary effusion,  however,  at  the  first,  glance,  that  its 
contents  were  not  especially  relevant  to  the  occasion 
of  a  first  hillet-doux  from  her  admirer.    Reading  it 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  285 

more  deliberately,  something  familiar  in  the  lan- 
guage struck  her  suddenly,  and  after  pondering  a  mo- 
ment, she  turned  over  the  leaves  of  a  new  book  which 
was  among  the  literary  stores  of  our  travelling-party, 
and  soon  came  to  the  exact  counterpart  of  passage 
after  passage,  as  recorded  in  the  letter  of  the  gallant 
Pole! 

The  volume  was,  I  think,  "  Hannah  More's  Me- 
moirs," which  had  probably  been  recommended  to 
the  young  student  of  our  language  by  his  teacher,  or 
some  friend,  as  containing  good  specimens  of  the 
epistolary  style  ! 


With  the  hope  that  you  may  all  escape  being  the 
subjects  of  such  merriment  as  was  occasioned  by  tho 
discovery  of  my  fair  friend,  I  remain,  as  ever. 
Affectionately  yours, 

Hakey  Lunettes. 


286  THE  AMERICAN  GENTLEMAn's   ^UIDB 


LETTER  IX. 

accomplishments. 

My  dear  Nephews  : 

Though  accomplishments  are  a  very 
poor  substitute  for  the  more  substantial  portions  of  a 
thorough  education,  no  one  should  be  so  indifferent 
to  the  embellishments  of  life  as  wholly  to  neglect 
their  cultivation. 

With  Europeans  some  attention  to  this  subject 
always  makes  part  of  a  thorough  education,  but 
among  a  new  people^  differing  so  essentially  from  the 
nations  of  the  Old  World  in  social  habits,  the  leisure 
and  inclination  that  induce  such  a  system  of  early 
discipline  are  both  still  wantiug — speaking  generally. 
It  is  not  the  lack  of  wealth — of  that  we  have  enough 
— but  of  a  cultivated,  discriminating  taste,  the 
growth  of  time  and  favoring  circumstances,  which 
is  not  yet  diffused  among  us.  But,  though  our  young 
men,  even  of  the  more  favored  class,  do  not  enjoy 
the  carefully  -  elaborated  system  of  early  training, 
common  abroad,  personal  effort  will  produce  a  result 
similar  in  effect,  if  well-directed  and  steadfastly  pur- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  287 

sued,  and  the  best  of  all  knowledge — that  most  bene^ 
iicial  in  its  influence  upon  character — is  acquired  by 
unaided  individual  exertion.  Young  Americans, 
above  the  men  of  all  other  countries,  should  lack  no 
incentive  to  add,  as  occasion  may  permit,  tasteful 
polish  to  the  more  essential  solidity  of  mental 
acquirements. 

I  know  of  nothing  better  calculated  to  foster 
refinement  and  purity  of  life  than  the  cultivation  of 
a  Tdste  for  the  Fine  Arts.  I  do  not  refer  to  a  dillet- 
tante  affectation  of  familiarity  with  the  technicalities 
of  artistic  language,  or  to  fashionable  pretension  and 
an  assumption  of  connoisseurship,  but  to  honest, 
manly,  sesthetical  perceptions,  quickened  and  ele- 
vated by  familiarity  with  the  true  principles  of: 
Art,  and  by  the  study  of  the  highest  productions  of 
genius. 

Some  knowledge  of  the  practice,  as  well  as  of  the 
principles  of  drawing^  is  a  very  agreeable  and  useful 
accomplishment,  and  one  that  may  be  acquired  with 
little  or  no  instruction,  save  that  to  be  obtained  from 
books. 

Among  the  advantages  collaterally  arising  from 
familiarity  with  this  art,  is  the  increased  quickness 
and  enjoyment  it  lends  to  a  discernment  of  the  beauti- 
ful in  nature,  both  in  its  minute  manifestations  and 
its  grand  developments.  A  fondness  for  sketching], 
leads,  also,  to  a  partiality  for  rural  excursions,  and 
for  the  physical  sciences  ;  and  all  those  tastes  where 
the  main  purposes  of  life  permit  their  indulgence, 
serve  to  elevate,  refine,  and  expand  the  higher  facul* 


288 


ties,  to  give  them  habitual  dominion  over  the  pro- 
pensities and  to  restrain  sensuous  enjoyments  within 
their  legitimate  limits. 

A  Taste  for  Music  must,  of  course,  be  ranked 
among  the  elegances  of  social  life,  but  it  should  not 
be  forgotten  that  a  practical  hnowledge  of  any  one 
branch  of  this  Art  has  no  direct  effect  to  enlarge  the 
mind,  like  that  of  Painting,  for  instance.  It  is  only 
a  sensuous  pleasure,  though  a  refined  one,  and  is,  as 
I  have  had  frequent  occasion  to  remark,  too  fre- 
quently permitted  to  engross  both  time  and  faculties 
that  should  properly  be,  in  part,  at  least,  more  diffu- 
sively employed.  Musical  skill,  though  a  pleasant 
acquirement,  is  not  a  sufficient  substitute  for  an 
acquaintance  with  general  Literature  and  Art ;  nor 
will  its  most  exquisite  exhibitions  always  furnish  an 
equivalent  for  intellectual  pleasures,  whether  of  a 
personal  or  social  nature. 

Dancing  should  be  early  learned,  not  only  because, 
like  musical  knowledge,  it  is  a  source  of  social  and 
domestic  enjoyment,  but  as  materially  assisting  in 
the  acquirement  of  an  easy  and  graceful  carriage  and 
manner.  It  is  a  good  antidote,  too,  to  mauvaise 
honte,  and  almost  essential  among  the  minor  accom- 
plishments of  a  man  of  the  world. 

Hiding  and  Driving  should  never  be  neglected 
by  those  who  possess  the  means  of  becoming  familiar 
with  them.  Convenience,  health  and  pleasure  com- 
bine to  recommend  both,  l^o  indulgence  of  the 
pride  of  skilly  however,  should  be  permitted  to  exalt 
these  accessories  of  a  polite  education  into  the  main 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  28^ 

business  of  life,  as  I  believe  1  have  before  reminded 
you. 

The  hroad^word  exercise^  pistol-shooting^  athletio 
sports  and  games ^  sporting ^  gymnastic  exercises^  etc., 
etc.,  may  be  ranked  among  the  minor  manly 
accomplishments  with  which  it  is  desirable  to  be 
familiar. 

Of  no  small  importance,  and  of  no  insignificant 
rank  as  an  accomplishment,  is  a  ready  and  graceful 
elocution.  Possessed  by  professional  men,  its  value 
can  scarcely  be  overrated,  and  no  young  man,  what- 
ever his  aims  in  life,  should  esteem  it  unworthy  of 
attention,  since  private  as  well  as  public  life  afford 
constant  occasion  for  its  exercise.  To  read  intelligi-. 
Uy^  audibly^  and  agreeably^  to  speak  with  taste  and 
elegance,  to  address  an  audience — whether  a  mass 
assemblage  of  the  sovereign  people,  or  the  servants 
of  the  people,  in  Congress  assembled,  or  an  intelligent 
audience  gathered  for  intellectual  instruction  and 
enjoyment,  each  require  careful  and  persevering 
practice,  critical  discrimination  and  disciplined  taste. 
And  what  young  American — with  that  control  of 
circumstances  which  especially  distinguishes  us  from 
all  other  peoples,  with  the  high  aspirations  and  pur- 
poses to  which  all  are  equally  entitled — shall  say 
that  he  will  not  have  the  most  urgent  occasion  for, 
and  derive  high  advantage  from  the  acquisition  of 
the  Art  of  Elocution  f  But,  apart  from  considera- 
tions of  utility,  correct  speaking  and  writing  are 
indispensable  requisites  to  the  privileges  of  good 
Bociety,  and  elegant  polish  in  this  respect  is  the 


290 


desirable  result  and  certain  indication  of  natural 
refinement. 

I  will  onlj  add  that  elocutionary  skill  always 
affords  the  possessor  the  means  of  promoting  social 
and  domestic  enjoyment,  and  that  the  finest  senti- 
ments and  the  most  eloquent  language  lose  half 
their  proper  effect  when  uttered  in  a  niumbling  or 
muttering  tone,  as  well  as  in  too  loud  or  too  low  a 
voice. 

Closely  allied  to  the  accomplishment  of  which  we 
have  been  speaking,  is  that  of  Conversational  ease 
and  elegance^  an  art  in  which  all  other  nations  are 
excelled  by  the  French,  and  in  which  we,  perhaps, 
most  successfully  emulate  them. 

Unfortunately  for  our  social  advancement  in  this 
respect, 

"  The  well  of  English  undefiled'''' 

is  not  the  only  source  from  which  the  vehicle  of 
thought  is  derived.  The  use  of  slang  phrases,  of 
crack  words,  even  among  the  better  educated  classes 
of  society — and  that  in  writing  as  well  as  in  conver- 
sation— is  becoming  noticeably  prevalent.  E^othing 
can  be  more  detrimental  to  the  advancement  of 
those  who  desire  to  acquire  colloquial  polish  than 
the  habit  of  using  this  inelegant  language,  and 
there  is  nothing  into  which  one  may  glide  more 
insensibly,  when  it  becomes  familiar  from  asso- 
ciation. 

You  will,  perhaps,  say  that  the  amusement 
afforded  to  others  by  the  occasional  adoption  of  these 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  291 

mirth-provoking  vulgarisms  alFcrds  an  apology  for 
their  nse ;  and  that  would  be  a  legitimate  excuse, 
did  the  matter  end  there.  But  who  can  hope  suc- 
cessfully to  establish  the  line  of  demarcation  that 
shall  separate  the  legitimate  sphere  of  their  applica- 
bility fyom  that  in  which  they  cannot  properly  claim 
a  place?  We  know  how  much  we  are  all  under 
the  dominion  of  habit  in  regard  to  the  artificial 
observances  of  life,  and  that  once  established,  any 
practice  in  which  we  indulge  ourselves  may  mani- 
fest itself  unconsciously  to  us.  Hence,  then,  it  is  no 
more  safe  to  acquire  the  habit  of  interlarding  our 
discourse  with  inelegances  of  expression,  ungram- 
matical  language,  Yankeeisms,  localisms  (to  coin  a 
word  if  it  be  not  one,  more  expressive  here  than 
proviiicialisms)  or  vulgarisms  of  any  kind,  than  to 
permit  ourselves  the  perpetration  of  other  solecisms 
in  good-breeding,  with  the  protection  only  of  a 
mental  limitation  to  their  undue  encroachment  upon 
our  claims  to  refined  associations. 

There  is,  therefore,  no  safe  rule,  except  that 
dictating  the  unvarying  adoption  of  the  purest  and 
most  exp'esswe  idiomatic  English  we  can  command. 
I  remember  to  have  heard  it  said  of  a  celebrated 
conversationist,  whom  I  knew  in  my  younger 
days,  that  he  not  only  always  used  a  good  word  to 
express  his  meaning,  but  the  very  lest  word  afiPorded 
by  our  language. 

The  habit  of  thinking  clea/rly  might  naturally  be 
supposed  to  produce  the  power  of  conveying  ideas 
to  others  with  distinctness,  were  not  the  impressioD 


292  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

controverted  by  much  evidence  to  the  contrary.  I 
must  believe,  however,  that  the  difference  between 
persons,  in  this  respect,  arises  more  frequently  from 
want  of  attention  to  the  subject,  than  from  all 
other  causes  combined.  I  know  of  no  other  way 
of  sufficiently  explaining  the  awkward,  slipshod, 
unsatisfactory  mode  of  talking  so  common  even 
among  educated  people.  "Were  we  accustomed  to 
regarding  conversational  pleasures  as  among  the 
highest  enjoyments  of  existence,  and  of  making 
them  a  part  of  our  daily  life — as  the  French  of  all 
ranks  do — a  vast  difference  would  exist  between 
what  is,  and  what  might  be.  With  what  intensity 
of  interest,  with  what  vivacity  of  manner  do  the 
polite  and  cultivated  French  talk  !  The  salons  of 
the  leaders  of  ton  in  Paris  are  nightly  filled  with 
the  literati,  the  artists,  the  soldiers  and  statesmen 
concentered  in  that  brilliant  capitol.  And  they 
assemble  not  to  eat,  not  even  to  dance,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  all  other  gratifications,  but  to  talk — to 
exchange  ideas  upon  topics  and  incidents  of  passing 
interest — to  receive  and  to  communicate  instruction, 
as  well  as  enjoyment.  And  even  the  common 
people — whether  eating  their  frugal  evening  repast 
at  a  little  table  placed  in  the  street,  or  seated  in 
groups  in  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries — how  they 
talk  !  with  what  ahandon — to  use  their  own  word — 
with  what  geniality,  with  what  sprightliness  I  The 
very  children,  sporting  like  so  many  birds  of 
gorgeous  plumage,  and  musical  tones,  in  the  public 
gardens   and  promenades,  prattle  of  matters  into- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  293 

resting  to  them,  with  a  graceful  vivacity  nowhere 
else  to  be  seen.  All  classes  give  themselves  up  to 
it — take  time  for  it^  as  one  of  the  necessities  of 
daily  life !  But  I  should  apologize  for  this  digres- 
sion. 

The  advantage  of  habitual  jpractice^  then,  cannot 
be  too  highly  commended  to  those  who  would 
acquire  colloquial  skill.  There  is,  also,  no  better 
mode  of  fastening  knowledge  in  the  mind,  than 
by  accustoming  one's  self  to  clothing  ideas  in 
spoken  language,  and  the  mere  attempt  to  do  so, 
gives  distinctness  to  thought. 

But  while  fluency  and  ease  are  the  results  of 
practice,  the  embellishments  of  conversation  require 
careful  culture.  Wit,  Humor,  Repartee,  though  to 
some  extent  natural  gifts,  may  undoubtedly  be 
improved,  if  not  attained,  by  artificial  training. 

It  is  said  that  Sheridan,  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated wits  and  conversationists  of  his  day,  pre- 
pared himself  for  convivial  occasions,  like  an 
intellectual  gladiator,  ready  to  enter  the  lists  in  a 
valiant  struggle  for  supremacy.  He  may  be  said  to 
have  made  Conversation  a  Profession^  to  which  he 
gave  his  whole  attention,  as  did  the  celebrated 
youth  who  exceeded  all  his  fellows  in  the  tie  of  his 
neck-cloth,  to  that  mysterious  art  1 

Sheridan's  practice  was,  to  make  brief  notes, 
before  going  into  society,  of  appropriate  topics  and 
witticisms  for  each  occasion,  upon  which  he  relied 
for  sustaining  his  reputation  as  a  boon  companion 
and  accomplished  talker.    There  is  a  good  story 


told  of  his  being  exceedingly  nonplussed,  on  some 
important  occasion,  by  having  his  memoranda  pur- 
loined* by  a  friend,  who,  while  waiting  to  accom- 
pany the  wit  to  an  entertainment  to  which  both 
were  invited,  stole  his  thunder  from  his  dressing- 
table,  where  it  had  been  placed  in  readiness.  The 
unlucky  literary  Boanerges  was  as  powerless  as 
Jupiter  robbed  of  his  bolts ! 

But  if  one  would  not  desire  preparation  as  elabo- 
rately artificial  as  that  ascribed  to  this  spoiled  fond- 
ling of  English  aristocracy,  there  seems  to  be  a  pro- 
priety in  making  some  mental,  as  well  as  external 
arrangements  before  entering  society.  Thus,  pass- 
ingly to  reflect,  while  making  one's  toilet  for  such 
an  occasion,  upon  the  general  character  of  the  com- 
pany one  is  to  meet,  and  upon  the  subjects  most 
appropriate  for  conversation  with  those  with  whom 
one  will  probably  be  individually  associated,  may 
not  be  amiss.  'Nor  will  it  be  unwise  to  recall  such 
reminiscences  of  personal  adventures,  popular  intelli- 
gence, etc.,  as  the  day  may  have  furnished. 

Happily,  however,  for  those  who  distrust  their 
power  to  surprise  by  erudition,  or  delight  by 
wit,  good-sense,  accompanied  by  good-humor  and 
courtesy,  render  their  possessors  the  most  endur- 
ingly  agreeable  of  social  and  domestic  compa- 
nions. Tlie  favorites  of  society  are  usually  those 
who  wound  no  one's  self-love,  either  by  imposing 
upon  others  a  painful  sense  of  inferiority,  or  by 
rudeness,  impertinence,  or  assumption.  Few  have 
sufficient  magnanimity  to  forgive  superiority,  but 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  295 

good-nature   and  politeness   need    no   excuse  with 
any. 

"  Oh,  let  the  ungentle  spirit  learn  from  hence, 
A  small  unkindness  is  a  great  offence  I 
*  *  *  »  • 

All  may  shun  the  guilt  of  giving  pain^ 

Wit,  however  racy,  should  never  find  a  place  in 
conversation  when  pointed  at  the  expense  of  another, 
and,  indeed,  personalities,  even  when  free  from  con* 
demnation  on  this  score,  are  usually  in  bad  taste. 
People  of  sensibility  and  refinement  are  much  more 
likely  to  be  annoyed  than  gratified  by  being  made 
the  auditors  of  conversation,  even  when  politely  in- 
tended, which  brings  them  into  especial  notice. 

Hence,  nothing  requires  more  delicacy  and  tact 
than  the  language  of  compliment,  which  should 
always  be  carefully  distinguished  from  that  of  mere 
flattery.  The  one  is  the  expression  of  well-bred  cour- 
tesy, the  other  is  oppressive  and  embarrassing  to  all 
rightly  constituted  persons,  and  discreditable  to  the. 
taste  by  which  it  is  dictated. 

As  a  general  rule,  it  is  better  to  talk  of  things 
TFian  of  persons,  and  William  Penn's  rule  to  "  say 
nothing  of  others,  unless  you  can  say  something  good 
of  them^'^  should  have  no  exception.  Let  nothing 
tempt  you  into  the  habit  of  indulging  in  gossip, 
scandal,  and  unmanly  puerility — not  even  a  good- 
natured  desire  to  assimilate  yourself  to  the  compa- 
nionship of  temporary  associates.  In  this  respect, 
as  in  many  others, 


296  THE   AMERICAN   6enTLEMAN's   GUIDE 

"  Vice  is  a  monster  of  such  hideous  mien, 
As  to  be  hated,  needs  but  to  be  seen ; 
But  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  her  face, 
We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace." 

"No  conscientiously- enlightened  man  can  reflect 
for  a  moment  upon  the  heinonsness  of  slander,  or 
indeed  of  evil  speaking  when  not  allied  with  false- 
hood, without  abhorrence ;  and  yet,  how  few  can 
assume  that,  in  H  eaven's  High  Chancery,  there  is  no 
Buch  dark  record  against  them. 

Permit  me  to  remind  you  that  a  mere  difference 
of  intonation  or  of  emphasis,  in  repeating  conversa- 
tional remarks,  will  sometimes  suffice  to  convey  a 
wholly  erroneous  impression  to  others,  and  that  a 
mysterious  glance,  a  nod,  a  shrug,  a  smile,  may  be 
made  equivalent  to  the  "  offense  of  spoken  wordsP 

I  have  recommended  the  adoption  of  good,  pure 
English  as  the  most  unexceptionable  colloquial  coin. 
Recurring  to  this  point,  let  me  express  the  opinion 
that  the  most  pretentious,  or  erudite  language,  is 
not  always  that  best  adapted  to  the  purposes  of  prac- 
tical life.  No  one  is  bound  to  speak  ungrammati- 
cally or  incorrectly,  even  when  communicating  with 
the  illiterate,  but  the  simplest  phraseology,  as  well 
as  the  most  laconic,  is  often  the  most  appropriate 
and  expressive,  under  such  circumstances. 

Companionship  with  the  educated  justifies  the 
use,  without  justly  incurring  the  charge  Q>i pedantry, 
of  every  mode  of  conveying  ideas  that  we  are  assured 
is  intelligible  to  them.  Thus  classical  scholars  may 
use  the  learned  languages,  if  they  will,  in  mutual  in- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  29T 

tercoiirse  ;  and  the  popular  and  familiar  words  and 
phrases  we  have  borrowed  from  the  French,  are 
often  a  convenient  resource,  under  similar  circum- 
stances. All  this  is  best  regulated  by  good-breeding 
and  taste.  It  is  always  desirable  to  err  on  the  safe 
side,  where  there  is  a  possibility  of  misapprehension, 
or  of  incurring  the  imputation  of  affectation,  or  of  a 
love  of  display. 

This  last  consideration,  by  the  way,  affords  an 
additional  incentive  to  the  selection  of  such  compa- 
nionship as  is  best  suited  to  elicit  the  exercise  of 
conversational  grace,  and  stimulate  the  mental  culti- 
vation upon  which  it  must  be  based.  In  addition  to 
this  advantage,  is  that  thus  afforded  of  familiarizing 
one's  self  with  the  usagesof  those  who  maybe  regarded 
as  models  for  the  inexperienced.  The  modesty  so 
becoming  in  the  young,  will  inspire  a  wish  to  listen 
rather  than  talk ;  but — though  to  be  an  attentive 
and  interested  listener  is  one  of  the  most  agreeable 
and  expressive  of  compliments — remember  that 
^practice,  if  judiciously  directed,  cannot  be  too  soon 
attempted,  to  secure  this  desirable  attainment. 

These  remarks,  I  am  fully  aware,  have  been  desul- 
tory and  digressive,  but  they  were  designed  to  be 
rather  suggestive  than  satisfactory ;  and  experimen- 
tal knowledge  will,  I  trust,  more  than  compensate 
you  for  my  conscious  deficiencies.  I  will  add  only  a 
general  remark  or  two,  and  then  no  longer  tax  your 
patience. 

The  ladies — dear  creatures  ! — are  most  prone,  it 
must  be  admitted,  to  the  use  of  exaggerated  language, 


298 


in  conversation ;  with  them  the  superlative  form  of 
the  adjective  will  alone  suffice  for  the  full  expression 
of  feeling  or  opinion.  But  this  peculiarity  is  by  no 
means  confined  to  those  in  whom  enthusiasm  and  its 
natural  expression  are  most  becoming.  The  sterner 
sex  are  far  from  being  exempt  from  this  habit,  which, 
often  involves  looseness  of  thought^  inaceuracy  of 
statement^  or  positive  untruthfulness.  It  is  desirable, 
as  a  point  of  ethics,  to  practise  care  in  this  regard. 
Using  the  strongest  forms  of  expression  on  ordinary 
occasions,  leaves  one  no  reserved  corps  of  language 
for  those  requiring  unusual  impressiveness.  Accu- 
racy is  the  great  essential,  many  times,  in  the  choice 
of  language.  A  clear  idea,  clearly  and  unequivocally 
expressed,  is  indicative  of  a  good  and  well-disci- 
plined intellect,  each,  as  I  have  before  intimated,  the 
result  of  attention  and  practice. 

Well-bred  people  are  careful,  when  obliged  to  dif- 
fer with  others  in  conversation,  to  do  so  in  polite 
language,  and  never  to  permit  the  certainty  of  being 
in  the  right  to  induce  a  dictatoral  or  assuming  man- 
ner. When  only  a  difierence  of  opinion  or  of  taste 
is  involved,  young  persons,  particularly,  should  scru- 
pulously abstain  from  any  appearance  of  obstinacy, 
or  self-sufficiency,  and  defend  their  impressions,  if  at 
all,  with  a  courteous  deference  to  others.  Usually, 
nothing  is  gained  by  argument  in  general  society. 
!No  one  is  convinced,  because  no  one  wishes  to  be, 
and  many  persons,  even  when  *  convinced,  will  argue 
still,'  because  unwilling,  from  wounded  self-love,  to 
adnut  it.     Much  acrimony  of  feeling  is  engendered 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  299 

in  this  way — ^pertinacity  often  causing  an  unpleasant 
conclusion  to  what  was  begun  in  entire  good-feeling. 
ISTo  one  is  bound  to  renounce  a  claim  to  his  individ- 
ual rights  in  this  respect,  but  modesty  and  courtesy 
will  never  sit  ill  upon  the  young,  while  steadfastly 
defending  even  a  point  of  principle.  "  Never,"  said 
Mr.  Madison,  in  an  admirable  letter  of  advice  to  a 
nephew,  "  never  forget  that^  precisely  in  proportion 
as  you  differ  from  others  in  opinion^  they  differ  with 
youy  Let  me  add,  that  they  who  are  honestly  seek- 
ing knowledge  and  truth,  will  carefully  review  and 
re-weigh  opinions,  tastes,  and  principles  in  regard  to 
which  they  find  themselves  differing  essentially  with 
those  whom  age,  experience,  and  learning  render 
their  admitted  superiors. 

And  if  contradiction  and  opinionativeness  are 
inadmissible  in  good  society,  at  least  equal  taste  and 
tact  are  required  in  conveying  information  to  others. 
Some  graceful  phrase,  some  self-renouncing  admis- 
sion or  explanation,  which  may  secure  you  from  the 
envy  or  dislike  that  wounded  vanity  might  otherwise 
engender,  should  not  be  forgotten  when  circumstance 
or  education  give  you  an  advantage  over  others  in 
the  intercourse  of  domestic  or  social  life. 

•♦  As  in  smooth  oil  the  razor  best  is  whet, 
So  wit  is  by  politeness  sharpest  set ; 
Their  want  of  edge  from  their  offense  is  seen  ^ 
Both  pain  us  least  when  exquisitely  keen, 
The  fame  men  give  it  for  th^joy  they  find  P^ 

It  ifl  usually  in  bad  taste  to  talk  of  one's  self  lu 


300 


general  society.  Humility  of  language,  in  this  re 
spect,  may  easily  be  interpreted  into  insincerity,  iind 
it  is  at  least  equally  difficult,  on  the  other  hand,  to 
avoid  the  imputation  of  egotism.  Frankness  with 
those  to  whom  you  are  bound  by  the  ties  of  friend- 
ship, will,  many  times,  be  the  best  proof  you  can  give 
of  the  sincerity  of  your  confidence  and  regard,  but 
this  will  in  no  degree  interfere  with  a  certain  self- 
abnegation  in  ordinary  social  intercourse.  Politeness 
may  dictate  «ur  being  listened  to  with  a  semblance  of 
interest,  when  our  own  health,  affairs,  adventures,  or 
misfortunes  are  the  subject  of  detailed  discourse  on 
our  part,  but  the  sympathy  of  the  world  is  not  easily 
enkindled,  and  pity  is  often  mingled  with  contempt. 
People  go  into  society  to  be  amused,  not  to  have 
their  courtesy  taxed  by  appeals  to  sensibilities  upon 
which  others  have  no  claim.  Carlyle  has  well  said, 
^'Silently  swallow  the  chagrins  of  your  ^position; 
every  ^position  has  themP  And  it  is  so ;  but  one's 
"  private  griefs  "  are  not  lessened  by  exposure,  not 
made  more  endurable  by  being  constantly  the  theme, 
either  of  one's  thoughts  or  conversation.  Let  me  add 
that  their  legitimate  use  is  to  teach  us  a  ready  sym- 
pathy with  the  sorrows  and  trials  of  others,  rather 
than  a  hardened  self-engrossment. 
"While  you  endeavor,  therefore,  to 

"  Conceal  yoursel'  as  weel's  ye  can 
Frae  critical  dissection," 

Beek  to  excel  in  pei*sonal  agreeability,  not  for  the  sake 
of  superiorit}^  so  much  as  to  secure  the  means  of  giv- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  301 

ing  pleasure  to  otliers,  and  of  entitling  yourself  to 
the  favorable  regard  of  those  whose  society  it  is  desi- 
rable to  enjoy.  Even  the  readiest  admirers  of  wit 
may  weary  of  the  very  brilliancy  of  its  flashes,  if  the 
coruscations  too  constantly  recur,  as  the  eye  tires  of 
sheet-lightning,  often  repeated  ;  but  who  will  weary 
of  geniality,  amiability,  and 

"  Good  breeding,  the  blossom  of  good  sense," 

any  sooner  than  will  the  eye  of  the  lambent  light  of 
fair  Diana  ? 

No  single  characteristic  of  conversation,  perhaps,  so 
universally  commends  the  possessor  to  the  favor  of 
society,  as  cheerfulness.  "^  laugh^'^  said  an  emi- 
nent observer  of  society,  "  is  the  test  vocal  music  /  it 
is  a  glee  in  which  everybody  can  take  part  /"  I  re- 
member, once,  being  for  some  weeks  in  a  hotel  with 
a  number  of  invalids,  one  of  whom,  though  a  con- 
stant sufferer,  always  met  me  with  a  pleasant  smile, 
and  uttered  his  passing  salutations  in  a  voice  cheery 
as  a  hunter's  horn.  Really,  his  simple  "  Good  morn- 
ing, Colonel  Lunettes,"  was  so  replete  with  good- 
humor,  courtesy,  and  cheerfulness,  as  to  do  one  good 
like  a  cordial.  It  so  impressed  me  that,  at  length, 
I  responded, "  Good  morning,  cheerful  sir, — I  believe 
you  never  fail  to  greet  your  friends  in  a  manner  that 
gives  them  pleasure."  His  pleasant  smile  grew 
pleasanter,  and  his  bright  eye  brighter,  as  he  re- 
plied— "I  always  make  a  principle  of  speaking 
cheerfully  to  the  sick,  especially — they,  of  all  oth- 
ers, are   most  susceptible  to  outward  impressions." 


302 


*'  There  is  a  world  of  philosophy,  as  well  as  of  hu- 
manity, in  what  you  say,"  returned  I,  "  and  I  can 
personally  testify  to  the  good  effects  of  your  kindly 
habit." 

But  it  is  not  alone  the  sick,  the  sad,  or  the  sensitive 
who  hail  a  cheerful  companion  with  delight — these 
Human  Sunheams  bring  warmth  and  gladness  to  all 
■ — even  the  least  susceptible  feel  the  effects  of 
their  genial  presence,  almost  unconsciously,  and  fre- 
quently seek  and  enjoy  their  conversation  when  even 
elegance  and  erudition  would  fail  of  attraction. 

The  same  tact  and  self-respect  that  will  preserve 
you  from  exhibitions  of  vanity  and  egotism,  will 
dictate  discrimination  in  the  selection  of  topics  of 
conversation,  bearing  upon  matters  of  taste  and  sen- 
timent, as  well  as  of  opinion  and  principle. — All 
affectation  or  assumption  of  superiority  in  this  re- 
spect is  offensive  and  worse  than  useless.  Those  with 
whom  you  have  mental  affinities  will  understand  and 
appreciate  you ;  but  beware,  especially  if  sensitively 
constituted,  how  you  expose  your  sensibilities  to  the 
ridicule,  or  3^our  principles  to  the  professed  distrust 
of  those  with  whom,  for  any  reason,  you  cannot 
measure  colloquial  weapons  upon  entirely  equal 
terms. 

On  the  contrary,  again,  no  well-bred  man  ever 
rudely  assails  either  the  predilections  or  the  princi- 
ples of  others  in  general  society.  This  is  no  more 
the  proper  arena  for  intellectual  conflicts  than  for 
political  sparring,  or  theological  disputes.  Whatever 
tends  to  disturb  the  general  harmony  of  a  circle,  or 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION. 

to  give  pain  to  any  one  present,  is  inexcusable,  how* 
ever  truthful  and  important  in  the  abstract,  however 
wise  or  witty  in  itself  considered,  may  be  observa- 
tions tending  to  either  or  both  results. 

This  brings  me  to  dwelling  a  moment  upon  a  kin- 
dred point — the  discourtesy  sometimes  exhibited  by 
young  men  towards  ladies  and  clergymen,  in  the  use 
of  equivocal  language,  and  the  introduction  of  excep- 
tionable subjects  in  their  hearing.  Anything  that 
will  crimson  the  cheek  of  true  womanhood,  or  in- 
vade the  unconsciousness  of  innocence^  is  imworthy 
and  unmanly,  to  a  degree  of  which  it  is  not  easy 
to  find  language  to  express  sufficient  abhorrence. 
The  defencelessness  of  the  dependent  sex,  in  this,  as 
in  all  other  respects,  is  their  best  protection  with  all 
who — 

"  Give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man  H 

And  the  same  shield  is  presented  by  those  whose 
profession  precludes  their  adopting  the  means  of  self- 
defence  permitted  to  the  world  at  large.  ^Nothing 
can  be  more  vulgar — setting  aside  the  immorality  of 
the  thing — than  to  speak  disrespectfully  of  religion,  or 
of  its  advocates  and  professors,  in  society — what  then 
shall  be  said  of  those  who  assail  the  ears  of  the 
acknowledged  champions  of  Christianity  with  infidel 
sentiments,  contemptuous  insinuations,  or  profane 
expletives  ?  Depend  upon  it,  a  man  of  the  world 
whatever  his  honest  doubts,  or  unorthodox  convic- 
tions, will  be  as  little  likely  to  present  himself  as  a 
mark  in.  regard  to  these  matters  for  the  suspicious 
distrust^  or  the  palpable  misapprehension  of  society', 


304:  THE  AMERICAN  GENTLEMAN'S   GUIDE 

as  to  subject  himself  to  the  charges  of  extreme /w^6/^ 
tlity  and  low  hreeding  by  assailing  a  clergyman  with 
ridicule,  or  a  woman  with  libertinism,  however 
exquisite  may  be  his  wit  in  the  one  case,  or  appar- 
ently refined  his  insinuations,  in  the  other. 

While  recommending  to  your  attention  the  selec- 
tion of  suitable  and  tasteful  subjects  of  general  con- 
versation, I  should  not  omit  to  remind  you  that 
nothing  but  acknowledged  intimacy  sanctions  the 
manifestation  of  curiosity  respecting  the  affairs  of 
others.  As  a  rule,  direct  questions  are  inadmissible 
in  good  society.  Listen  with  politeness  to  what  may 
be  voluntarily  communicated  to  you  by  your  asso- 
ciates, regarding  themselves,  but  on  no  account,  in- 
dulge an  impertinent  curiosity  in  such  matters  ;  and 
when  courtesy  sanctions  the  manifestation  of  interest, 
express  your  desire  for  information  in  polite  lan- 
guage, and  with  a  half-apologetic  manner,  that  will 
permit  reserve,  without  embarrassment  to  either 
party.  Let  me  add,  that  an  uncalled-for  exhibition 
of  your  familiarity  with  the  private  affairs  of  a  friend, 
when  his  own  presence  and  manner  should  furnish 
your  proper  clue  to  his  wishes,  is  to  prove  yourself 
unworthy  of  his  confidence.  As  well  might  one 
boast  of  his  acquaintance  with  the  great,  or  assume 
an  unceremonious  manner  towards  them,  on  unsuit- 
able occasions.  In  either  case,  one  is  liable  to  the 
repulse  sustained  by  an  unfortunate  candidate  for 
fashionable  distinction,  who,  approaching  a  member 
of  English  haut  ton  in  the  streets  of  London,  said, 
"  I  believe  I  had  the  honor  of  knowing  you  in  the 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  305 

countiy,  sir." — *'  When  we  again  meet  in  the  coun* 
try^''  was  the  reply,  "  I  shall  be  pleased  to  renew  the 
acquaintance !" 

Quickness  of  repartee  may  be  reckoned  among  the 
graces  of  the  colloquial  art,  and  those  who  are  gifted 
with  activity  of  intellect,  and  have  acquired  facility 
in  the  use  of  expressive  language,  should  possess  the 
power  thus  to  embellish  their  social  intercourse. 
Every  one  is  now  and  then  inspired  in  this  way,  I 
believe;  but  few  persons,  comparatively,  even 
among  the  most  practised  conversationists,  excel  in 
this  respect.  How  few,  for  instance,  would  have  re- 
sponded as  readily,  in  an  emergency,  as  did  the  half- 
drunk  servant  of  Swift : 

"  Is  my  fellow  here  ?"  inquired  the  Dean,  pushing 
open  the  door  of  a  low  tavern  much  frequented  by 
his  often-missing  valet. 

A  nondescript  figure  came  staggering  forward, 
and  stuttered  out — "  Your  L- Lordship's  f-a-l-l-o-w 
canH  h-he  f -found  in  all  I-Ire-Ireland  P 

I  have  lately  met,  somewhere  in  my  reading,  with 
the  following  anecdote  of  the  elder  Adams,  as  he  is 
frequently  called.  I  remember,  at  this  moment;  no 
better  illustration  of  ready  repartee : 

"  How  are  you  this  morning,  sir  ?"  asked  a  friend 
who  called  to  pay  his  respects  to  this  patriotic 
son  of  New  England,  during  the  latter  days  of  his 
life. 

"  Not  well,"  replied  the  invalid ;  "  I  am  not  well. 
r  inhabit  a  weak,  Trail,  decayed  tenement,  open  to 


306 


the  winds,  and  broken  in  npon  by  the  storme ;  and 
what  is  worse,  from  all  I  can  learn^  the  landlord- 
does  not  intend  to  mahe  repairs  /" 

A  ready  and  graceful  rejply  to  a  compliments  may, 
also,  be  regarded  as  a  conversational  embellishment. 
It  is  not  polite  to  retort  to  the  language  of  courtesy 
with  a  charge  of  insincerity,  or  of  flattery.  Play- 
fulness  frequently  affords  the  best  resource,  or  the 
retort  courteous^  as  in  Lord  Nelson's  celebrated  reply 
to  Lady  Hamilton's  questions  of  "Why  do  you  differ 
so  much  from  other  men  ?  Why  are  you  so  superior 
to  the  rest  of  your  sex?"  "K  there  were  more 
Emmas,  there  would  be  more  Nelsons."  One  may 
say,  "  I  fear  I  owe  your  commendation  to  the  par- 
tiality of  friendship  ;"  or,  "  I  trust  you  may  never  be 
undeceived  in  regard  to  my  poor  accomplishments ;" 
or,  "  Really,  madam,  your  penetration  enables  you 
to  make  discoveries  for  me."  Then  again,  to  one  of 
the  lenient  sex,  one  may  reply — "  Mrs.  Blank  sees 
all  her  friends  through  the  most  becoming  of  glasses 
— ^her  own  eyes."  And  to  an  older  gentleman,  who 
honors  you  with  the  fiat  of  a  compliment,  thus 
proving  that  it  may  sometimes  be  false  that 

"  The  vanquished  have  no  friends," 

"  Eeally,  sir,  I  do  not  know  whether  I  am  most  over- 
whelmed by  admiration  for  your  wit  and  politeness, 
or  by  gratitude  for  your  kindness."  Or  some  phrase 
like  this  will  occasionally  be  appropriate — "  I  am 
afraid,  sir,  I  shall  plume  myself  too  highly  upon  your 


TO   POLITENESS  AND   FASHION.  307 

good  opinion.  You  do  me  much  honor;"  or,  "It 
will  be  my  devoir^  as  well  as  my  happiness,  for  the 
future,  to  deserve  your  commendation,  sir ;"  or, 
"  You  inspire  as  much  as  you  encourage  me,  dear 
sir — if  I  possess  any  claim  to  your  flattering  compli- 
ment, you  have  yourself  elicited  it."  To  a  compli- 
ment to  one's  wit,  or  the  like,  one  may  reply — • 
"Dullness  is  always  banished  by  the  presence  of 
Miss ;"  or,  "  Who  could  fail  to  be,  in  some  de- 
gree, at  least,  inspired  in  such  a  presence  ?"  Then, 
again,  a  reply  like  this  will  suffice — "  I  am  only 
too  happy  in  being  permitted  to  amuse  you,  ma- 
dam." 

Permit  me  in  this  connection,  a  few  words  respect 
ing  conversation  with  ladies.  Though  all  mere  silli 
ness  and  twaddle  should  be  regarded  as  equally 
unworthy  of  them  and  yourselves,  yet,  in  general 
association  with  the  fairest  ornaments  of  creation, 
a^reeahility^  rather  than  profundity,  should  be  your 
aim,  in  the  choice  of  topics.  Sensitive,  tasteful, 
refined, 

"  And  variable  as  the  shade 
By  the  light  quivering  aspen  made," 

their  vividness  of  imagination  and  sportiveness  of 
fancy  demand  similarity  of  intellectual  gifts,  or  the 
graceful  tribute  of,  at  least,  temporary  assimilation. 
Playfulness^  cheerfulness^  versatility^  and  courtesy 
should  characterize  colloquial  intercourse  with  ladies ; 
but  the  deference  due  them  should  never  degenerate 


«S08  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's  GUIDE 

into  mere  servile  acquiescence,  or  mawkish  senti- 
mentality. 

The  utmost  refinement  of  language  and  of  matter 
should  always  be  regarded  as  essential,  under  such 
circumstances,  to  the  discourse  of  a  well-bred  man ; 
and  should,  of  course,  distinguish  his  manner  as  well. 
Thus,  all  slang  phrases,  everything  approaching  to 
double  entendre^  all  familiarity  of  address,  unsanc- 
tioned by  relationship  or  acknowledged  intimacy,  all 
mis-timed  or  unsanctioned  use  of  nick-names  and 
Christian  names,  are  as  inadmissible  in  good  society 
as  are  personal  familiarities,  nudging,  winking,  whis- 
pering, etc. 

Too  much  care  cannot  be  taken  in  avoiding  all 
subjects  that  may  have  the  eifect  to  wound  or  dis- 
tress others.  I  think  I  have  before  remarked  that 
people  go  into  society  for  enjoyment — relaxation 
from  the  grave  duties  and  cares  of  life — ^not  to  be 
depressed  by  the  misanthropy  of  others,  or  disturbed 
by  details  of  scenes  of  horror.  1  have  known  per- 
sons who  had  such  a  morbid  taste  for  such  things  as 
always  to  insist  upon  reading  aloud,  even  in  the 
hearing  of  children  and  ladies,  the  frightful  news- 
paper details  of  rail-road  accidents  and  steamboat 
explosions.  I  remember,  in  particular,  once  having 
the  misfortune  to  be  acquainted  with  such  a  social 
incubus,  to  whom  a  death  in  the  neighborhood  was 
a  regular  God-send,  and  to  whom  the  wholesale 
slaughter  made  by  the  collision  of  rail-cars  served  as 
colloquial  capital  for  weeks — indeed  until  some  pro- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND    FASHION.  309 

vident  body  corporate  supplied  new  material  for  Ms 
cormorant  powers  of  mental  digestion !  His  letters 
to  distant  friends  were  a  regular  hill  of  mortality^ 
filled  with  minute  accounts  of  the  peculiar  form  of 
disease  by  which  every  old  woman  of  his  acquaint- 
ance was  enabled  to  shuffle  off  this  mortal  coil,  and  of 
every  accident  that  occurred  in  the  country  for  miles 
around — ^from  the  sudden  demise  of  a  poor  widow's 
cow,  to  the  broken  leg  of  a  robber  of  bird's-nests !  I 
shall  never  forget  the  revulsion  of  feeling  he  pro- 
duced for  me,  one  serene  summer  evening,  as  I  was 
placidly  strolling  over  the  sands  by  the  sea-shore, 
drinking  in  the  glory  of  old  Neptune's  wide-spread 
realm,  by  inflicting  upon  me,  not  only  himself— 
which  was  enough  for  mortal  patience — but  a  long 
rigmarole  about  the  great  numbers  of  fishes  washed 
upon  the  shore  by  a  recent  storm,  who  had  had  their 
eyes  picked  out  by  birds  of  prey,  while  still  strug- 
gling for  life  in  an  uncongenial  element!  On 
another  occasion,  I  had  the  misfortune  to  be  pre- 
sent when  a  young  lady  was  thrown  into  violent 
hysterics  by  his  mentioning,  with  as  much  gitsto  as 
an  inveterate  "  collector  "  would  have  exhibited  in 
boasting  the  possession  of  a  steak  from  the  celebrated 
"  antediluvian  beef,"  immortalized  by  Cuvier,*  that 
he  had  picked  up  a  small  foot  with  a  lady's  boot  on 

*  Speaking  in  one  of  his  public  lectures,  of  the  recent  discovery 
(amid  the  eternal  snows  of  Siberia,  I  think),  of  the  carcass  of  a 
mastodon^  upon  which  the  hunting-dogs  of  the  explorers  had  fed 
— " Thus"  said  the  great  naturalist,  " did  modern  dogs  gorge  them' 
aelves  upon  antediluvian  heefP 


310 


it,  while  visiting  the  scene  of  a  late  rail-road  acci- 
dent I 

But  avoiding  these  aggravated  forms  of  grossnesa 
:8  not  enough.  True  politeness  requires  attention  to 
the  peculiarities  of  each  of  the  company  you  are  with 
— teaching,  for  instance,  your  abstaining  from  allu- 
sions to  their  personal  defects  or  misfortunes,  to  the 
embarrassment  of  conversing  with  deaf  persons,  in 
the  presence  of  those  thus  afflicted,  to  lameness, 
when  some  one  present  has  lost  a  limb,  to  the  pecu- 
liarities of  age,  in  the  hearing  of  elderly  persons,  to 
the  vulgar  impression  that  all  lawyers  are  knaves, 
when  one  of  the  sons  of  that  noble  profession  is 
among  your  auditors — to  the  murderous  reputation 
of  the  disciples  of  Esculapius,  etc.  This  rule  will 
teach,  too,  the  use  of  a  less  offensive  term  than  that 
of  "  old  maid,"  when  speaking  of  women  of  no  parti- 
cular age,  in  the  hearing  of  such  as  are  by  courtesy 
only,  without  the  pale  alluded  to ;  and  the  propriety 
of  not  appealing  to  such  authority  in  relation  to 
matters  of  remote  personal  remembrance  I 

In  no  country  with  the  social  institutions  of  which 
I  am  familiar,  do  the  peculiar  opinions  obtain,  which 
'prevail  in  this  country  respecting  age.  "Young 
America  "  regards  every  one  as  old,  apparently,  who 
has  attained  majority,  and  women,  in  particular,  are 
subjected  to  a  most  unjust  ordeal  in  this  respect. 
The  French  have  a  popular  saying  that  no  woman 
is  agreeable  until  she  is  forty  ;  and  in  both  France 
and  England,  marriage — which  first  entitles  a  young 
lady  to  a  decided  position  in  society — usually  occurs 


TO  POLITENESS   AKD  FASHION.  311 

at  a  much  later  period  in  her  life  than  with  us.  In 
neither  of  those  countries  are  girls  hrought  out  at  an 
age  when  here  they  are  frequently  already  mothers  I 
But  to  return :  nothing  is  more  ill-bred,  than  this 
too  frequent  assumption  of  the  claims  of  women  to 
be  exempt  from  social  obligations  and  deprived  of 
their  proper  places  in  society,  in  this  country,  while 
still  retaining  all  their  pristine  claims  to  agreeability. 
Polished  manners,  cultivated  tastes  and  personal 
attractions,  are  not  to  have  their  claims .  abrogated 
by  Time.     You  remember  the  poet  says : 

"  The  little  Loves  are  infants  ever, 
The  Graces  are  of  every  age !" 

I  well  remember  being  intensely  chagrined  by  an 
exhibition  of  under-breeding  in  this  way  while 
making  a  morning  visit,  with  a  young  countryman 
of  ours,  upon  a  beautiful  English  girl,  a  distant  rela- 
tive of  his. 

After  discussing  London  fogs,  and  other  kindred 
topics,  Jonathan  suddenly  burst  forth,  as  if  suddenly 
inspired  with  a  bright  thought. 

"How's  the  old  lady?" 

The  largest  pair  of  blue  eyes,  opening  to  their 
full  extent,  turned  wonderingly  upon  the  querist. 

"  Your  mother, — is  she  well  this  morning  ?" 

"  Mamma  is  pretty  well,  thank  you ;  but  it  is  not 
possible  that  you  regard  her  as  old  !  Mamma  is  in 
the  very  prime  of  life,  only  just  turned  of  five  and 
forty !  Dear  mother  I  she  is  looking  very  pale  and 
sad  in  her  widow's  cap,  but  we  have  never  thought 


312 


of  her  as  old^'^  and  a  shadow,  like  the  sudden  darken- 
ing of  a  fair  landscape,  dimmed  those  deep  blue  eyes 
and  that  fine  forehead. 

But  enough  upon  this  collateral  point. 

I  trust  you  will  need  no  argument  to  convince  you 
of  the  vulgarity  and  immorality  of  permitting  your- 
selves the  practice  of  repeating  pHvate  conversation. 
Nothing  will  more  surely  tend  to  deprive  you  of 
the  respect  and  friendship  of  well-bred  people,  since 
nothing  is  more  thoroughly  understood  in  good 
society,  than  a  tacit  recognition  of  that  essential 
security  to  social  confidence  and  good-feeling  which 
utterly  interdicts  the  repetition  of  private  conversa- 
tion. 

Let  me  only  add  to  these  rambling  observations 
the  assurance  that  a  ready  compliance  with  the 
wishes  of  others,  in  exercising  any  personal  accom- 
plishment, is  a  mark  of  genuine  good-breeding. 


During  one  of  my  visits  to  London,  some  years 

since,  the  Duke  of invited  me  to  run  down  with 

him,  for  a  few  days,  to  his  magnificent  estate  in 
shire. 

Riding  one  morning  with  my  host  and  a  nume-" 
rous  party  of  his  guests,  we  paused  to  breathe 
our  horses,  and  enjoy  the  fine  prospect,  upon  the 
summit  of  a  hill  overlooking  the  wide-spread  acres 
of  his  lordship. 

"  Here  the  estate  of  my  neighbor,  Mr. ,  joins 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASEION.  31S 

my  land,"  said  the  Duke,  pointing,  with  his  riding- 
whip,  towards  a  narrow,  thickly-wooded  valley,  at 
our  feet.  "  You  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  turrets 
through  the  oaks  yonder.  This  spot  always  reminds 
me,"  pursued  our  host,  laughing,  "  of  an  amusing 
incident  of  which  it  was  the  scene,  years  ago,  when 
the  family  of  my  neighbor  had  not  become  as  distin- 
guished as  it  now  is,  among  the  philanthropists  of 
the  age.  A  young  friend  of  ours,  who  was  spend- 
ing the  shooting-season  here  with  my  sons,  while 
eagerly  pursuing  his  game,  one  morning,  uncon- 
sciously trespassed  upon  the  preserves  of  Mr. . 

The  report  of  his  fowling-piece  brought  Mr. 

suddenly  to  his  side,  just  as  he  was  triumphantly 
bagging  his  bird.  My  excellent  neighbor,  with  all 
his  admirable  qualities,  is  sometimes  a  little  chol- 
eric, and  you  know.  Col.  Lunettes,  [bowing  and 
smiling]  that  notliing  sooner  rouses  the  ire  of  a  true 
Englishman,  than  an  invasion  of  the  Game  Laws^ 

"'Sir!'  cried  Mr. ,  in  a  voice  trembling  with 

ill-suppressed  fury,  '  do  you  know  that  you  are  tres- 
passing,— that  these  are  my  grounds?' 

"'My  young  guest  was  not  permitted  fully  to 
explain,  before  the  angiy  man  again  burst  forth  with 
a  tirade,  which  he  concluded,  by  asking —  '  "What 
would  you  do  yourself,  sir,  under  such  circumstances? 
How  would  you  feel  disposed  to  treat  a  gentleman 
who  had  encroached  upon  your  rights  in  this  way?' 

"'Well,  really,  sir,  since  you  ask  me,  I  think  I 
should  invite  him  to  go  with  me  to  the  hoiise  atid 
take  a  mouthful  of  lunch  /' " 

14 


314 


This   was   irresistible!     Even 's  indignation 

was  cooled  bj  such  inimitable  sangfroid^  and  he  at 
once  adopted  the  suggestion  of  the  young  sportsman. 
My  witty  guest  not  only  secured  the  refreshment 
he  needed,  but,  eventually,  helped  himself  to  a 
honne  louche  of  more  substantial  character,  by  his 
marriage  with  one  of  the  blooming  daughters  of 
my  neighbor,  to  whom  he  was  introduced  on  that 
memorable  occasion !" 


A  young  American  of  my  acquaintance,  met,  not 
long  since,  in  the  salons  of  a  distinguished  Paris- 
ienne,  one  of  the  most  learnedly  scientific  of  the 
French  authors  of  our  times. 

"  I  am  as  much  surprised  as  I  am  delighted,  to 

meet  you  here  to-night,  Mr. ,"  said  my  friend, 

'I  supposed  you  too  much  occupied  in  profound 
research  and  study,  to  find  time  for  such  enjoy- 
ments." 

"  I  am,  indeed,  much  occupied  at  present,"  return- 
ed the  savant  /  "  but  I  can  neither  more  agreeably 
HOT  more  profitably  spend  a  portion  of  my  time  tlian 
in  the  society  of  my  refined  and  cultivated  friend, 

Madame  ,   and   that   of   the   intellectual    and 

accomplished  visitors  I  always  meet  at  her  house." 


Speaking,  in  the  body  of  this  letter,  of  the  useless- 
ness  of  arguing  with  the  hope  of  convincing  others. 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  Sl^ 

reminded  me,  by  association,  of  a  little  incident 
illustrative  of  my  opinion,  of  which  I  was  once  a 
witness,  during  a  summer  sojourn  at  Avon  Springs 
— a  little  quiet  watering-place  in  the  Empire  State, 
as  you  may  know. 

There  was  a  pleasant  company  of  us,  and  our 
intercourse  was  agreeable  and  friendly — all,  appa- 
rently, disposed  to  contribute  to  the  general  stock  of 
anmsement,  and  to  make  the  most  of  our  somewhat 
limited  resources  in  the  way  of  general  entertain- 
ment. There  were  pretty  daughters  and  managing 
mammas,  heiresses,  and  ladies  without  fortune,  who 
were  quite  as  attractive  as  those  whose  fetters  were 
of  gold,  the  usual  complement  of  brainless  youths, 
antiquated  bachelors  and  millionaire  widowers  (so 
reputed),  with  a  sprinkling  "of  nondescripts  and  old 
soldiers,  like  myself. 

It  was  our  custom  to  muster,  in  great  force,  every 
morning,  and  go  in  a  mammoth  omnibus  from  our 
hotel  to  the  "  Spring ''  to  bathe  and  drink  the 
delectable  sulphur-water,  there  abounding.  On 
these  occasions,  every  one  was  good-humored,  oblig- 
ing, and  cheerfully  inclined  to  make  sacrifices  for 
the  comfort  and  convenience  of  others.  The  ladies^ 
especially,  were  the  objects  of  particular  care  and 
courtesy,  being  always  politely  assisted  up  and 
down  the  high,  awkward  steps  of  our  lumbering 
conveyance,  with  their  bathing  parcels,  etc. 

"  All  went  merry  as  a  marriage  bell," 

until  one  unlucky  day  when  some  theological  point 


31% 


became  matter  of  discussion  between  two  men  of 
opposite  opinions,  just  as  we  were  commencing  our 
return-ride  from  the  Spring.  Others  were  soon 
drawn,  first  into  listening,  and  then  into  a  partici- 
pation in  the  conversation,  until  almost  every  man 
in  the  company  had  betrayed  a  predilection  for  the 
distinctive  tenets  of  some  particular  religious  sect. 
Thus,  Baptists,  Presbyterians,  Methodists,  Congrega- 
tionalists.  Episcopalians,  Unitarians,  and  Eomanists 
stood  revealed,  each  the  ardent  champion  of  his 
own  peculiar  views.  The  ladies  had  the  good  sense 
to  remain  silent,  with  the  exception  of  an  "Equal 
Rights  "  woman,  whose  wordy  interposition  clearly 
proved  that 

**  Fools  rush  in  where  angels  fear  to  tread  /" 

Well!  of  course,  no  one  was  convinced  by  this 
sudden  outbreak  of  varied  eloquence  of  the  fallacy 
of  opinions  he  had  previously  entertained,  and  of 
the  superior  wisdom  of  those  of  any  one  of  his 
companions.  Indeed,  so  eager  was  each  in  the 
maintenance  of  his  own  ground,  as  scarcely  to  heed 
the  arguments  of  his  opponents,  except  as  furnish- 
ing a  fresh  impulse  for  advancing  his  own  with 
increasing  pertinacity. 

Presently,  flushed  cheeks,  angry  glances,  and 
louder  tones  gave  token  that  the  meek  spirit  of  the 
long-suffering  Prince  of  .Peace  was  not  dominant  in 
the  breasts  of  these,  the  professed  advocates  of  his 
doctrines.  Rude  language,  too,  gradually  took  the 
place  of  the  professed  courtesy  with  which  the  discus- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  817 

Bion  had  begun,  and  the  ladies  looked  uneasily  from 
the  windows,  as  if  to  satisfy  themselves  that  escape 
from  such  disagreeable  association  was  near  at  hand. 
Happily  for  them,  our  Jehu,  though  unmindful  of 
any  particular  occasion  for  haste,  at  length  drew  up 
before  Comstock's  portico.  But,  in  place  of  the 
usual  patient  waiting  of  each  for  his  turn  to  alight, 
and  the  usual  number  of  extended  hands  that  were 
wont  to  aid  the  ladies  in  their  descent,  every  one  of 
the  angry  combatants  crowded  hastily  out  of  the 
vehicle,  almost  before  it  had  fairly  stopped,  wholly 
disregardful  alike  of  the  toes  of  his  neighbors  and 
the  claims  before  universally  accorded  to  the  gentler 
portion  of  our  company,  and  hurried  up  the  steps, 
apparently  forgetful  of  everything  except  the  un-. 
comfortable  chafings  of  wounded  self-love !  Each 
man,  evidently,  regarded  himself  as  the  most  abused 
of  mortals,  and  the  rest  as  a  parcel  of  obstinate  fools, 
for  whom  it  were  a  great  waste  of  ammunition  to 
assume  the  martyr's  fate  !  And  I  am  by  no  means 
sure,  that  the  cheerful  amicability  that  had  before 
prevailed  among  us  was  ever  fully  restored  after 
this  unhappy  outbreak  of  religious  feeling  ! 


The  gayest  of  capitals  experienced  a  sensation  I 
The  wittiest  of  circles,  where  all  was  wit,  were,  for 
once,  content  to  listen  only  !  The  brave,  the  great, 
the  learned,  and  the  fair,  contended  for  the  smiles 
and  the  society  of  the  Marquis  de  Plusesprit,  the 


318 


handsomest,  the  most  accomplished,  and  the  wittiest 
man  in  Paris ! 

One  day,  while  this  qoq,i2\  furore  was  at  its  height, 
a  celebrated  physician  received  a  professional  visit 
from  an  unknown,  whose  pale  cheeks  and  sunken 
eyes  bore  testimony  to  the  suffering  to  which  he 
described  himself  as  being  a  prey.  The  man  of 
science  prepared  a  prescription,  but  assured  his 
patient  that  what  would  most  speedily  effect  his 
restoration  was  change  of  scene  and  agreeable 
society. 

"  Seek  in  congenial  companionship  relief  from 
the  mental  anxiety  by  which  you  are  evidently 
oppressed,"  said  the  modem  Esculapius — "  fly  from 
study  and  self-contemplation ; — above  all,  court  the 
society  of  the  Marquis  de  Plu^esprit  /" 

"  Alas  I  doctor,"  returned  the  stranger,  "  /  am 
Plusesprit  /" 


Speaking  of  Kepartee,  reminds  me  of  a  pretty  scene 
of  which  I  was  a  witness,  not  long  since,  while  rural- 
izing for  a  week  with  an  old  friend  and  his  charming 
daughters,  at  their  beautiful  and  hospitable  home, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson.  By  the  way,  I  have 
before  introduced  you  to  their  acquaintance — the 
pleasant  family  of  letter-writing  memory  ! — 

An  elderly  foreign  gentleman,  of  large  information 
and  agreeable  manners,  but  not  one  of  fortune's 
favorites,  had  been  dining  with  us,  by  special  invita- 
tion, and  the  lovely  daughters  of  my  host  had  vied 


TO   POLITENESS  AlifD  FASHIOK.  31^ 

with  each  other  in  doing  honor  to  one  in  wliom  sen- 
sitiveness may  have  been  rendered  a  little  morbid 
by  the  effect  of  the  tyrant  Circumstance.  Every 
hour  succeeding  his  arrival  had  served  more  effec- 
tually to  melt  away  a  certain  constraint  of  manner, 
by  which  he  seemed  at  first  oppressed,  and  his  expres- 
Bive  face  grew  bland  and  genial  under  the  sunny 
influences  of  courteous  respect  and  appreciation,  until 
when  he  rose  to  go  away  at  sunset,  he  seemed  almost 
metamorphosed  out  of  the  man  of  the  morning. 

The  sisters  three,  accompanied  their  agreeable 
visitor  to  the  vine- draped  veranda,  where  I  was 
already  seated,  attracted  by  the  beauty  of  the  even- 
ing, and  of  my  local  surroundings.  I  had  been  par- 
ticularly admiring  a  line  large  orange-tree,  at  the 
entrance  of  the  porch,  which  was  laden  with  flowers 
and  fruit,  and,  witli  glittering  pearls  from  a  shower 
just  bestowed  upon  it  by  the  gardener. 

"Will  you  not  come  again,  before  Colonel  Lu- 
nettes leaves,  us,  Mr. ?"  asked  my  sweet  young 

friend  Fanny,  in  her  most  cordial  tones,  linking  her 
arm  in  that  of  one  sister,  and  clasping  the  waist  of  the 
other,  as  she  spoke,  "  we  will  invoke  the  Loves  and 
Graces  to  attend  you  " 

"The  Graces!"  exclaimed  the  guest,  quickl}^, — 
extending  his  hands  towards  the  group,  and  bowing 
profoundly — "  then  you  will  come  yourselves ! — the 
Graces  are  before  me .'"  And  then  he  added,  with  a 
courtly  air — "Eeally,  Miss  Fanny,  you  too  highly 
honor  a  rusty  old  man  "~ 

"  An  old  man,"  interrupted  Fanny,  with  the  utmost 


320 

vivacity,  dissolving  the  "  linked  sweetness  "  tliat  had 
int wined  her  with  her  sisters,  and  extending  her 
beautiful  arm  towards  the  superb  orange-tree  before 
her,  *'  an  old  man  ! — ^here  is   a  fitting   emblem  of 

our  friend  Mr. ; — all  the  attractiveness  of  youth 

Btill  mingled  with  the  matured  fruit  of  experience  !" 
Charming  Fanny !  God  bless  her ! — she  is  one  of 
those  earth- angels  whose  manifold  gifts  seem  used 
only  to  give  happiness  to  others ! 


I  called  one  evening,  not  long  since,  to  pay  my 
respects  to  the  daughter  of  a  recently-deceased  and 
much-valued  friend.  She  had  been  persuaded  into 
a  journey  to  a  distant  city,  in  search  of  the  health  and 
spirits  that  had  been  exceedingly  impaired  by  watch- 
ing beside  the  death-bed  of  her  departed  mother. 
Her  appearance  could  scarcely  fail,  as  it  seemed  to 
me,  to  interest  the  most  insensible  stranger  to  her 
history ; — for  myself,  I  was  inexpressibly  touched  by 
the  language  of  the  colorless  face  and  languid  eyes 
to  which  a  simple  black  robe  lent  additional  mean- 
ing. 

Just  as  I  began  to  indulge  a  hope  that  the  faint 
smile  my  endeavors  at  cheerful  conversation  had 
caused  to  flicker  about  her  lips — ^as  a  rose-tint  illu- 
mines for  a  moment  the  white  summit  of  an  Alpine 
height — there  entered  the  drawing-room  of  our  hos* 
tess  a  bevy  of  noisy  women,  young  and  old,  who 
gathered  about  the  sofa,  where  my  friend  and  I  wero 


TO   POLITENESS   AJfD   FASHION.  321 

seated  near  our  hostess,  and  rattled  away  like  so 
many  pieces  of  small  (very  small !)  artillery. 

I  saw  plainly  that  the  mere  noise  was  almost  too 
much  for  the  nerves  of  the  silent  occupant  of  the  sofa 
corner ;  but  what  was  my  surprise  at  hearing  them 
go  into  the  most  minute  particulars  respecting  the 
recent  death  of  a  gentleman  of  our  acquaintance ! 
His  dying  words,  his  very  death-struggles  were  care- 
fully reported,  and  the  grief  of  the  survivors  graph- 
ically described ! 

Unfortunately,  having  relinquished  my  seat  be- 
side the  mourner  to  one  of  these  women,  I  was 
powerless  in  my  intense  wish  to  attract  her  attention 
from  the  subject  of  their  discourse ;  but  my  eyes 
were  riveted  upon  her,  with  the  keenest  sympathy 
for  the  torture  she  must  be  undergoing.  Her  pale 
face  had  gradually  grown  white  as  a  moonbeam, 
until,  at  length,  as  though  strengthened  by  despera- 
tion, she  sprang  from  her  seat,  and  essayed  to  leave 
the  room.  One  step  forward,  a  half-stifled  sob,  and 
the  slender  form  lay  extended  on  the  floor  in  hapless 
insensibility. 


"  While  Mr.  Smith  is  tuning  his  guitar,  let  us  beg 
Mrs.  Williams  to  redeem  her  promise  of  reciting 
Campbell's  '  Last  Man '  for  us,"  said  a  graceful  hos- 
tess, mindful  of  the  truth  that  some  of  her  guests 
preferred  eloquence  and  poetry  to  sweet  sounds,  and 
desirous,  too,  of  drawing  out  the  accomplishments.  >f 


all  her  guests. 


14* 


322 


Mrs.  Williams,  gifted  with 

"  The  vision  and  the  faculty  divine," 

glanced  a  little  uneasily  at  the  ever-twanging  guitar 
as  she  politely  assented  to  the  requests  that  eagerly 
seconded  that  of  her  hostess.  Mr.  Smith  still  contin- 
ued to  hum  broken  snatches  of  an  air,  twisting  the 
screws  of  his  instrument  with  complete  self-engross- 
ment, the  while. 

"  I  will  not  interrupt  Mr.  Smith,"  said  the  lady, 
in  more  expressive  tones  than  were  ever  elicited  from 
catgut  by  the  efforts  of  that  gentleman,  moving  with 
a  step  graceful  as  that  of  a  gazelle  to  the  other  end 
of  the  room. 

Our  little  circle  gathered  about  her,  and  enjoyed, 
in  an  exquisite  degree, 

"The  feast  of  reason,  and  the  flow  of  soul," 

that  SO  far  surpasses  the  merely  sensuous  pleasure 
afforded  by  music,  when  not  associated  with  exalted 
sentiment. 

As  the  company  broke  into  little  groups,  after 
thanking  Mrs.  "Williams  for  the  high  gratification  for 
which  we  were  her  debtors,  I  overheard  Mr.  Smith 
say,  with  a  discontented  air,  to  a  youth  with  a 
*'  lovely  moitstache^^^  who  had  "  accompanied"  him  in 
his  previous  musical  endeavors,  "I'll  never  bring 
my  instrument  here  again  !" 

At  this  critical  moment,  our  hostess  approached 
with  a  water-ice,  as  a  propitiatory  offering,  and 
expressed  the  hope  that  the  guitar  was  now  renewed 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FABHTON.  323 

for  action.  Tlie  musician,  witli  offended  dignity, 
only  condescended  to  repl}^,  as  he  deposited  his  idol 
in  a  corner — 

"Thank  you,  ma'am;  I  supposed  your   friends 
were  fond  of  music  /" 


Discussing  the  mooted  subject  of  beards  one  morn- 
ing lately,  with  some  sprightly  young  ladies  of  my 
acquaintance,  the  following  specimen  of  quickness 
of  repartee  was  elicited.  I  record  it  for  your  amuse- 
ment. 

"  Among  the  ancients,  I  believe,"  said  a  fair  girl, 
"  a  long,  snowy  beard  was  considered  an  emblem 
of  the  wisdom  of  the  possessor." 

"  And  how  is  it  in  modern  times  ?"  inquired  another 
lady,  "  does  wisdom  keep  pace,  in  exact  proportion 
with  length  of  beard  ?"  > 

"  No,  indeed,"  exclaimed  the  first  speaKer,  laugh- 
ingly, "for, 

"  If  beards  long  and  bushy  true  wisdom  denote, 
Then  Plato  must  bow  to  a  hairy  he-goat !" 


What  would  an  educated  foreigner — Kossuth,  for 
instance,  who  learned  English  5y  the  study  of  Shah- 
sjpeare — make  of  the  following  specimens  of  collo- 
quial American  language  ? 

"  Do  tell,  Jul,"  exclaimed  a  young  lady,  "  where 
have  you  been  marvelling  to  ?  You  look  like  Time 
in  the  primer!" 


324  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLKMAn's   GUIDE 

"  Ko  you  don't,"  returned  the  young  lady  address- 
ed, "  you  can't  come  it  over  dis  chil' !" 

"  'No,  no,"  chimed  in  a  youth  of  the  party,'  "  you 
can't  come  it  quite,  Miss  Lib !  Don't  try  to  poke 
fun  at  us !" 

"  You've  all  been  sparking  in  the  woods,  1 
guess  I" 

"  Oh,  ho,"  laughed  one  of  the  speakers,  "I  thought 
you'd  get  it  through  your  hair,  at  last — that's  rich !" 

"Why!"  retorted  the  interlocutor,  tartly,  "do 
you  think  I  don't  know  tother  from  which?" 

"I  think  you  'know  beans'  as  well  as  most 
Hoosiers,"  replied  her  particular  admirer,  in  a  tone 
of  unmistakable  blandishment. 

"  Everybody  knows  Jul's  so7ne  j>u7npkins,^^  admit- 
ted one  of  her  fair  companions. 

"  Come,  Jul,  rig  yourself  in  a  jiffy,"  said  a  bonny 
lassie,  who  had  not  yet  spoken,  "  you  are  in  for  a 
spree !" 

"What's  in  the  wind — who's  to  stand  the  shot?'* 
cautiously  inquired  the  damsel  addressed. 

''  We're  bound  on  a  spree,  I  tell  you !  You  must 
be  green  to  think  we'll  own  the  corn  now  I  Come, 
fix  up,  immediately,  if  not  sooner  I"  so  saying,  tho 
energetic  speaker  seized  her  friend  round  the  waist 
and  gallopaided  her  out  of  the  room. 

Presently  some  one  said,  "  Well,  Jul  and  Lotty 

have  made  themselves  scarce ! — ^I by  George, 

it  makes  a  fellow  open  his  potato-trap  to  hang  around 
waitin'  so,"  and  an  expansive  yawn  attested  tliti 
sincerity  of  this  declaration. 


TO   POLITENESS   ANL    FASHION.  325 

"  I  could  scare  up  my  traps  a  heap  sight  quicker, 
I  reckon,  and  tote  'em  too,  from  here  to  the  river, 
nigger  fashion,"  rejoined  a  Southerner,  of  the  group. 

''  Some  chicken  fixins  and  pie  doins  wouldn't  be 
60  bad — would  they,  though?"  whispered  a  tall, 
Western  man  to  his  next  neighbor. 

"And  a  little  suthin  to  wet  your  whistle,  too," 
added  another,  overhearing  the  remark — "  you're  a 
trump,  anyhow !" 

"Then  you  do  kill  a  snake,  sometimes,  Mr. 
Smith,"  inquired  one  of  his  auditors,  smiling  signifi- 
cantly. 

"  Does  your  anxious  mother  know  you're  out  V 
retorted  Mr.  Smith,  twirling  his  fingers  on  his  nose 

"Don't  be  wrathy,  Smith — what's  your  tipple, 
old  fellow  ?"  put  in  one  of  the  young  men,  sooth- 
ingly stroking  the  broad  shoulders  of  that  interesting 
youth. 

"You're  E  Pluribus — you're  a  brick,"  returned 
Mr.  Smith,  softening,  "  but  where  in  thunder  are 
those  female  women  ?  They'ave  sloped  and  given  us 
the  mitten,  I  spose  " 

"  You  ain't  posted  up,  my  boy,  if  you  think  they'd 
given  us  the  slip,"  answered  his  friend. 

"By  jingo!  it  takes  the  patience  of  all  tho  world 
and  the  rest  of  mankind  to  dance  attendance  upon 
them — they  ain't  as  peart  as  our  gals  d  windP^ 
cried  Mr.  Smith,  in  an  ecstasy  of  impatience. 

"How's  your  ma,  Mr.  John  Smith?"  inquired 
the  merry  voice  of  "Jul,"  who  had  entered  unpei> 
ceived,  "  you'd  better  dry  up  !" 


326 


"  Here  we  are,  let's  be  off,"  sliouted  a  young  gen« 
tleman. 

"  All  aboard,"  echoed  another. 

"Now  we'll  go  it  with  a  rush!"  burst  from  a 
third,  and,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  my 
dramatis  jpersonm  vanished  like  the  wind. 


Havmg  the  happiness  to  pass  a  morning  at  the 
Louvre  with  my  early  and  lamented  friend,  "Wash- 
ington Allston,  he  said  to  me,  as  arm  in  arm  we 
sauntered  slowly  through  one  of  the  Galleries — - 
"Come  and  study  one  of  my  particular  favorites 
with  me — one  might  as  well  attempt  to  taste  all  the 
nondescript  dishes  at  a  Chinese  state-dinner  as  to 
enjoy  every  picture  in  a  collection,  at  a  single  visit. 
I  do  not  even  glance  at  more  than  one  or  two,  unless 
I  know  that  I  shall  have  months  before  me  for 
renewing  my  inspection — better  take  away  one  dis- 
tinct recollection,  to  add  to  one's  private  collection^ 
than  half  a  dozen  confused,  imperfect  copies !" 

I  think  it  was  a  Murillo  before  which  the  artist 
paused  while  speaking ;  the  celebrated  work  repre- 
senting a  monk,  who  had  been  interrupted  by  death 
while  writing  his  own  biography,  as  being  permitted 
to  return  to  earth  to  complete  his  self-imposed  task. 
I  am  not  sure  but  this  pictm^e,  however,  was  added 
some  years  later  to  the  treasures  of  the  Louvre,  by 
Napoleon — for  we  were  both  young  men  then — 
however,  it  matters  not.     I  was  quite  as  much  occu- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  327 

pied  in  observing  the  living  j^cture  before  me,  as 
that  of  the  great  master.  And,  though  memory  has 
proved  somewhat  treacherous,  I  still  vividlj  recol- 
lect the  spiritualized  face  of  this  true  child  of  genius, 
as  he  contemplated  the  magnificent  impersonation. 
His  brow  grew  radiant,  and  his  eye !  ah,  who  shall 
portray  that  soul-lit  eye,  or  justly  record  the  poetic 
language  that  fell,  almost  unconsciously,  from  his 
half-inspired  lips !  Sacredly  are  they  cherished 
among  the  hoarded  memories  of  youthful  friendship  ? 
It  was  only  my  purpose  to  recall  for  your  benefit 
the  opinion  and  practice  of  one  so  fully  competent 
to  advise  in  relation  to  our  subject. 

What  Disraeli  has  somewhere  said  of  eating, 
may,  with  equal  nicety  of  epicureanism,  be  applied 
to  the  enjoyment  of  Ideal  Art,  and  of  that  of 
which  it  is  the  tj^pe — ^natural  beauty: — "To  eat, 
really  to  eat,"  asserts  the  discriminatingly  sensuous 
Jew,  "  one  should  eat  alone,  in  an  easy  dress,  by  a 
soft  light,  and  of  a  single  dish  at  a  time !"  For  my- 
self— but  there's  no  accounting  for  tastes ! — I  should 
desire  on  all  such  occasions, 

*'  One  fair  spirit  for  my  minister," 

or  rather,  for  my  sympathizing  companion  I 


Ag  an  illustration  of  the  advantage  to  a  man  in 
public  life^  of  ready  elocution  and  ready  wit^  let  me 
sketch  for  you  a  little  scene  of  which  1  was  the 


328  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN'S   GUIDE 

amused  and  interested  witness,  one  morning  some 
months  ago,  while  on  a  visit  at  Washington. 

A  Chaplain  was  to  be  elected  for  the  House  of 
Kepresentatives.  General  Granger,  of  INew  York, 
proposed  a  Soldier  of  the  Revohition  as  well  as  of  the 
Cross — the  Kev.  Mr.  Waldo — adding  a  few  impres- 
sive facts  in  relation  to  his  venerable  and  interesting 
friend — as  that  he  was  then  in  his  ninety-fourth 
year,  had  borne  arms  for  his  country  in  his  youth, 
etc. 

Upon  this,  some  member,  upon  the  opposition 
henches^  as  the  English  say,  called  out : 

"  What  are  his  claims  ?  where  did  he  serve  ?" 

"The  gentleman  will  permit  me  to  refer  him  to 
the  Pension  OflSce,"  returned  General  Granger,  with 
the  most  smiling  urbanity ;  "  he  will  there  find  the 
more  satisfactory  answer  to  his  queries." 

"  What  are  Mr.  Waldo's  politics  ?" 

"  Though  a  most  amiable  gentleman  and  devout 
Christian,  he  belongs,  sir,  to — the  Church  Mili- 
tant r 

"  Is  he  a  Filibuster  V* 

"  Even  so,  sir !  Mr.  Waldo  filibustered  for  the 
Old  Thirteen^  against  George  the  Tliird,  in  the 
American  Revolution  !" 

1  am,  my  dear  boys,  as  ever, 

Your  affectionate, 

"Uncle  Hal.*' 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  329 


LETTEK  X. 

HABIT. 

My  dear  Friends  : 

If  you  wish  to  have  power  to  say,  in  the 
words  of  the  imperial  slave  of  the  beautiful  Egyptian, 

"  Let  me, 

With  those  hands  that  grasp'd  the  heaviest  club, 
Subdue  my  worthiest  sc^," 

you  must  not  wholly  overlook  the  importance  ol 
Hahit^  while  establishing  your  system  of  life. 

Always  indicative  of  character,  habit  may  yet,  to 
a  certain  extent,  do  us  the  greatest  injustice,  through 
mere  inadvertency.  Indeed,  few  young  persons 
attach  much  importance  to  such  matters,  until  com- 
pelled by  necessity  to  unlearn,  with  a  painful  effort, 
what  has  been  insensibly  acquired. 

Permit  me,  then,  a  few  random  suggestions,  intend- 
ed rather  to  awaken  your  attention  to  this  branch  of 
a  polite  education,  than  to  furnish  elaborate  directions 
in  relation  to  it. 

Judging  from  the  prevalent  tone  of  social  inter- 
course among  our  countrymen,  both  at  home  and 


530 


abroad,  one  might  naturally  make  the  inference,  that 
most  of  them  regard  Rudeness  and  Hepuhlicanism  as 
synonymous  terms.  Depend  upon  it,  that  as  a  people, 
we  are  retrograding  on  this  point.  Our  upper  class 
— or  what  would  fain  be  deemed  such — in  society, 
may  more  successfully  imitate  the  fashionable  folliee 
and  conventional  peculiarities  of  the  Old  World,  than 
their  predecessors  upon  the  stage  of  action  did ;  but 
fashion  is  not  good  breeding,  any  more  than  arro- 
gant assumption,  or  a  defiant  independence  of  the 
amenities  of  life,  is  true  manliness.  Breaking  away 
from  the  ceremonious  old  school  of  habit  and  man- 
ner, we  are  rapidly  running  into  the  opposite  ex- 
treme, and  the  masses  who,  with  little  time  or  incli- 
nation for  personal  reflection,  on  such  subjects,  natur- 
ally take  their  clue,  to  some  extent,  from  the  assumed 
exponents  of  the  laws  of  the  fickle  goddess,  exagger- 
ating the  value  of  the  defective  models  they  seek  to 
imitate,  into  the  grossest  caricature  of  the  whole,  and, 
mistaking  rudeness  for  ease,  and  impudence  for  inde- 
pendence, so  defy  all  abstract  propriety,  as,  if  not  to 
"make  the  angels  w^eep,"  at  least  to  mortify  and  dis- 
gust all  observant,  thinking  men,  whose  love  and 
pride  of  country  sees  in  trifles  even,  indications 
more  or  less  auspicious  to  national  advancement. 

All  this  defiance  of  social  restraint,  this  professed 
contempt  for  the  suavities  and  graces  that  should 
redeem  existence  from  the  complete  engrossment  of 
actualities,  is  bad  enough  at  home ;  but  its  exhibition 
abroad  is  doubly  humiliating  to  our  national  dignity. 
Every  American  who  visits  foreign  countries,  whether 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FA6HI0N.  331 

as  the  accredited  official  representative  of  his  gov- 
ernment, or  simply  in  the  character  of  a  private 
citizen,  owes  a  duty  to  his  native  land,  as  one  of 
those  by  the  observance  of  whom  strangers  are  form- 
ing an  estimate  of  the  social  and  political  advance- 
ment of  the  people  who  are  making  the  great  experi- 
ment of  the  world,  and  upon  whom  the  eyes  of  all 
are  fixed  with  a  peculiar  and  scrutinizing  interest. 

It  has  been  well  said  of  us,  in  this  regard,  that 
"  our  worst  slavery  is  the  slavery  to  ourselves.^'* 
Trammelled  by  the  narrowest  social  prejudices  at 
home,  Americans,  breaking  loose  from  these  restraints 
abroad,  run  riot,  like  ill-mannered  school-boys,  sud- 
denly released  from  the  discipline  which,  from  its 
very  severity,  prompts  them  to  indulge  in  the  ex- 
treme of  license.  Thus,  we  lately  had  accounts  of 
the  humiliating  conduct  of  some  Americans,  who, 
being  guests  one  night  at  the  Tuileries,  actu- 
ally so  far  forgot  all  decency  as  to  intrude  their 
drunken  impertinence  upon  the  personal  observation 
of  the  Emperor!  And,  when  informed,  the  next 
morning,  that,  at  the  instance  of  their  insulted  host, 
the  police  had  followed  them,  when  they  left  the 
palace,  to  ascertain  whether  they  were  not  suspicious 
characters  who  had  surreptitiously  obtained  admit- 
tance to  the  imperial  fete,  they  are  reported  to  have 
pronounced  the  intelligence  "wA/"  Shame  on 
such  exhibitions  ! — they  disgrace  us  nationally. 

If  our  countrymen  would  be  content  to  learn  from 
older  peoples  on  these  points,  it  would  be  well,  lu 
the  Elegant  and  Ideal  Arts,  in  Literature,  in  genera) 


332  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN'S   GUIDE 

Science,  the  superiority  of  our  predecessors  in  the  \u&* 
tory  of  Progress,  is  cheerfully  admitted.  Can  we, 
then,  learn  nothing  from  the  matured  civilization  of 
the  Old  World  in  regard  to  the  A7'f  of  Living  f  Shall 
we  defy  the  race  to  which  we  belong,  on  this  point 
alone  ?  This  secret  is  possessed  in  greatest  perfection 
by  those  w^ho  have  longest  studied  its  details,  and 
some  long  existent  nations  who  display  little  practi- 
cal wisdom  in  matters  of  political  science,  are  grey- 
beard sages  here.  So  then,  let  us  learn  from  them 
what  they  can  easily  save  us  the  trouble  of  acquiring 
by  difficult  experiments  for  ourselves,  and,  concen- 
trating our  energies  upon  higher  objects,  give  them 
back  a  full  equivalent  for  their  knowledge  of  the  best 
mode  of  serving  the  Lares^  the  Muses^  and  the  Gra- 
ces, by  a  successful  illustration  of  the  truth,  that  as  a 
peajpU  we  are  cajpdble  of  self-government !  We  shall, 
then,  no  longer  have  the  wife  of  an  American  minis- 
ter ignorantly  invading  the  Court  Rules  at  Madrid, 
by  sporting  the  colors  sacred  to  royal  attire  there, 
and  so  giving  occasion  for  national  offense,  as  well 
as  individual  conflict,  nor  furnish  Punch  with  mate- 
rial for  the  admonitory  reflection  that  the  bond  of 
family  union  between  John  Bull  and  his  cousin  Jon- 
athan must  be  somewhat  uncertain  "  when  so  small  a 
matter  as  the  tie  of  a  cravat  can  materially  affect  the 
frice  of  stocks  /"  And,  when  vulgar  bluster  and 
braggadocio  are  no  longer  mistaken  for  the  proper 
assertion  of  national  and  individual  independence, 
we  shall  not  have  an  American  gentleman  who,  like 
our  justly-distinguished    countryman,  George  Pear 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  33^3 

body,  constantly  exhibits  the  most  urbane  courtesy, 
alike  towards  foreigners  and  towards  the  citizens  of 
the  native  country  to  which  his  life  has  been  one 
prolonged  psean,  accuse'd  of  toadying^  because  he 
quietly  conforms  to  the  social  usages  of  the  people 
among  whom  he  lives ! 

But  pardon  me  these  generalities.  I  have  been 
unintentionally  led  into  them,  I  believe,  by  my  keen 
sense  of  mortification  at  some  of  the  incidents  to 
which  I  have  alluded. 

Coming  then  to  details,  let  us,  primarily,  resolve 
to  be  slaves  to  nothing  and  to  no  one — neither  to 
others  nor  to  ourselves ;  and  to  endeavor  to  establish 
such  habits  as  shall  entitle  each  of  us,  in  the  estima- 
tion of  discriminating  observers,  to  the  distinctive 
name  of  gentleman. 

Constant  association  with  well-lred  and  weU-edu- 
cated  society^  cannot  be  too  highly  estimated  as  an 
assistant  in  the  acquisition  of  the  attributes  of  which 
we  propose  to  speak.  A  taste  for  such  companion- 
ship may  be  so  strengthed  by  habit  as  to  form  a 
strong  barrier  to  the  desired  indulgence  of  grosser 
inclinations.  "  Show  me  your  friends,  and  I'll  tell 
you  what  you  are,"  is  a  pithy  Spanish  proverb. 
Choose  yours,  I  earnestly  entreat,  in  early  life,  with 
a  view  to  self-improvement  and  self-respect.  And, 
while  on  this  point,  permit  me  to  warn  you  against 
mistaking  pretension,  wealth,  or  position,  for  intrinsic 
merit;  or  the  advantages  of  equality  in  elevated 
social  rank,  for  an  equivalent  to  mental  cultivation, 
or  moral  dignity. 


334 

Ono  of  the  collateral  benefits  resulting  from  pro* 
per  social  associations,  will  be  an  escape  from  eccen- 
vHcities  of  manner,  dress,  language,  etc. ;  erroneous 
habits  in  relation  to  which,  when  once  established, 
often  cling  to  a  man  through  all  the  changes  of  time 
and  circumstance. 

But,  as  observation  proves  that  this,  though  a 
safeguard,  is  by  no  means  always  a  sufficient  de- 
fense, it  is  well  to  resort  to  various  precautions, 
additionally — as  a  prudent  general  not  only  carefully 
inspects  the  ramparts  that  guard  his  fortress,  but 
stations  sentinels,  who  shall  be  on  the  look-out  for 
approaching  foes. 

So  then,  my  dear  boys,  do  not  regard  me  as  de- 
scending to  puerilities  unworthy  of  myself  and  you, 
when  I  call  your  attention  to  such  matters  as  your 
attitude  in  standing  and  sitting,  or  any  other  little 
individualizing  peculiarities. 

Some  men  fall  into  a  habit  of  walking  and  stand- 
ing with  their  heads  run  out  before  them,  as  if  doubt- 
ful of  their  right  to  keep  themselves  on  a  line  with 
their  fellow-creatures.  Others,  again,  either  elevate 
the  shoulders  unnaturally,  or  draw  them  forward  so 
as  to  impede  the  full,  healthful  play  of  the  lungs. 
This  last  is  too  much  the  peculiar  habit  of  students^ 
and  contracted  by  stooping  over  their  books,  un- 
doubtedly. Then  again,  you  see  persons  swinging 
their  arms,  and  see-sawing  their  bodies  from  side  to 
side,  so  as  to  monopolize  a  good  deal  more  than  their 
rightful  share  of  a  crowded  thoroughfare,  steamer- 
cabin,  or  drawing-room  floor.     Nothing  is  more  un 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  335 

comfortable  than  walking  arm  in  arm  with  such  a 
man.  He  pokes  his  elbows  into  your  ribs,  pushes 
you  against  passers-by,  shakes  you  like  a  reed  in  the 
wind,  and,  perhaps,  knocks  your  hat  into  the  gutter 
with  his  umbrella — and  all  with  the  most  good-hu- 
mored unconsciousness  of  his  annoying  peculiarity. 
If  you  are  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  shut  up  in  a  car- 
riage with  him,  his  restless  propensity  relieves  itself 
to  the  great  disturbance  of  the  reserved  rights  of, 
ladies,  and  the  frequent  impalement  upon  his  pro- 
truding elbows  of  fragments  of  fringe,  lace,  and 
small  children!  At  table,  if  it  be  possible,  his 
neighbors  gently  and  gradually  withdraw  from  hia 
immediate  vicinity,  leaving  a  clearing  to  his  undis- 
puted possession.  He  usually  may  be  observed  to 
stoop  forward,  while  eating,  with  his  plate  a  good 
foot  from  the  customary  locality  of  that  convenience, 
pushed  before  him  towards  the  middle  of  the  table, 
and  his  arms  so  adjusted  that  his  elbows  play  out 
and  in,  like  the  sweep  of  a  pair  of  oars. 

A  little  seasonable  attention  to  these  things  will 
efiectually  prevent  a  man  of  sense  from  falling  into 
such  peculiarities.  Early  acquire  the  habit  of  stand- 
ing and  walking  with  your  chest  thrown  out — your 
head  erect — your  abdomen  receding  rather  than  pro- 
truding— not  leaning  back  any  more  than  forward — 
with  your  arms  scientifically  adjusted — your  hat  on 
the  toj>  (not  on  the  back,  or  on  one  side)  of  your 
head — with  a  self-poised  and  firm,  but  elastic  tread  ; 
not  a  tramp,  like  a  war-horse ;  not  a  stride,  like  a 
fugitive  bandit ;  not  a  mincing  step,  like  a  conjurer 


53a 


tieading  on  eggs ;  but,  with  a  compact,  manly,  homo- 
geneous sort  of  bearing  and  movement. 

Where  there  has  been  any  discipline  at  least,  if 
not  always,  inklings  of  character  may  be  drawn 
from  these  tokens  in  the  outer  man.  For  instance — 
the  light,  quick,  cat-like  step  of  Aaron  Burr,  was  as 
much  a  part  of  the  man  as  the  Pandemonium  gleam 
that  lurked  in  the  depths  of  his  dark,  shadowed  eyes. 
I  remember  the  one  characteristic  as  distinctly  as 
the  other,  when  I  recall  his  small  person  and  pecu- 
liar face.  So  with  the  free,  firm  pace  by  which  the 
noble  port  of  De  "Witt  Clinton  was  accompanied — 
one  recognized,  at  a  glance,  the  high  intellect,  the 
lofty  manhood,  embodied  there. 

Crossing  the  legs,  elevating  the  feet,  lounging  on 
one  side,  lolling  back,  etc.,  though  quite  excusable 
in  the  abandon  of  bachelor  seclusion,  should  never 
be  indulged  in  where  ceremony  is  properly  required. 
In  the  company  of  ladies,  particularly,  too  much 
care  cannot  be  exhibited  in  one's  attitudes.  It  is  then 
suitable  to  sit  upright,  with  the  feet  on  the  floor,  and 
the  hands  quietly  adjusted  before  one,  either  holding 
the  hat  and  stick  (as  when  paying  a  morning  visit), 
or  the  dress-hat  carried  in  the  evening,  or,  to  give 
ease,  on  occasion,  a  book,  roll  of  paper,  or  the  like. 
Habits  of  refinement  once  established,  a  man  feels  at 
ease — he  can  trust  himself,  without  watching,  to  be 
natural — and  nothing  conduces  more  to  grace  and 
elegance  than  this  quiet  consciousness.  Let  me  add, 
that  true  comfort,  real  enjoyment,are  no  better  secured 
under  any  circumstances,  bv  indulging  in  anything 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  337' 

that  is  intrinsically  unrefined^  and  that  a  certain 
habitual  self-restraint  is  the  best  guarantee  of  ease, 
propriety  and  elegance,  when  a  man  would  fain  do 
entire  justice  to  himself. 

Habits  connected  with  matters  of  the  table,  as  in- 
deed with  all  sensuous  enjoyments,  should  always  be 
such  as  not  to  suggest  to  others  ideas  of  merely  self- 
ish animal  gratification.  Among  minor  character- 
istics, few  are  so  indicative  of  genuine  good-breeding 
as  a  man's  mode  of  eatimg.  Upon  Poor  Kichard's 
principle,  that  "  nothing  is  worth  doing  at  all  that  is 
not  worth  doing  well,"  one  may  very  properly  attach 
some  consequence  to  the  formation  of  correct  habits 
in  relation  to  occasions  of  such  very  frequent  recur- 
rence. It  is  well,  therefore,  to  learn  to  sit  uprightly 
at  table,  to  keep  one's  individual  "  aids  and  appli- 
ances "  compactly  arranged ;  to  avoid  all  noise  and 
hurry  in  the  use  of  these  conveniences  ;  neither  to 
mince,  nor  fuss  with  one's  food ;  nor  yet  to  swallow 
it  as  a  boa-constrictor  does  his, — rolled  over  in  the 
mouth  and  bolted  whole  /  or  worse  still,  to  open  the 
mouth,  to  such  an  extent  as  to  remind  observers  that 
alligators  are  half  mouth.  Eating  with  a  knife,  or 
with  the  fingers ;  soiling  the  lips ;  using  the  fork  or 
the  fingers  as  a  tooth-pick ;  making  audible  the 
process  of  mastication,  or  of  drinking ;  taking  soup 
from  the  jpoint  of  a  spoon ;  lolling  forward  upon  the 
table,  or  with  the  elbows  upon  the  table ;  soiling  the 
cloth  with  what  should  be  kept  upon  the  plate; 
putting  one's  private  utensils  into  dishes  of  which 


11^ 


others  partake ;  in  short,  everything  that  is  odd,  or 
coarse,  should  nowhere  be  indulged  in. 

Cut  your  meat,  or  whatever  requires  the  use  of  the 
knife,  and,  leaving  that  dangerous  instrument  conve- 
niently on  one  side  of  your  plate,  eat  with  your  fork, 
using  a  bit  of  bread  to  aid,  when  necessary,  in  taking 
up  your  food  neatly. 

When  partaking  of  anything  too  nearly  approach- 
ing a  liquid  to  be  eaten  with  a  fork,  as  stewed  toma- 
to, or  cranberry,  sop  it  with  small  pieces  of  bread ; 
— a  spoon  is  not  used  while  eating  meats  and  their 
accompaniments.  ISf ever  take  up  large  bones  in  the 
fingers,  nor  bite  Indian  corn  from  a  mammoth  ear. 
(In  the  latter  case,  a  long  cob  running  out  of  a  man's 
mouth  on  either  side,  is  suggestive  of  the  mode  in 
which  the  snouts  of  dressed  swine  are  adorned  for 
market !)  If  you  prefer  not  to  cut  the  grain  from 
the  ear,  break  it  into  small  pieces  and  cut  the  rows 
lengthwise,  before  commencing  to  eat  this  vege- 
table. 

When  you  wish  to  send  your  plate  for  anything, 
retain  your  knife  and  fork,  and  either  keep  them 
together  in  your  hand,  or  rest  them  upon  your 
bread,  so  as  not  to  soil  the  cloth. 

Should  you  have  occasion  for  a  tooth-pick,  hold 
your  napkin,  or  your  hand,  before  your  mouth  wliile 
applying  it,  and  on  no  account  resort  to  the  percep- 
tible assistance  of  the  tongue  in  freeing  the  mouth 
or  teeth  from  food. 

Have  sufficient  self-control,  when  so  unfortunatft 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  339 

as  to  be  disgusted  with  anything  in  your  food,  to 
refrain  from  every  outward  manifestatijn  of  annoy- 
ance, and  if  possible,  to  conceal  from  others  all 
participation  in  your  discovery. 

Accustom  yourself  to  addressing  servants  while  at 
table,  in  a  low,  but  intelligible  tone,  and  to  a  good- 
natured  endurance  of  their  blunders. 

Avoid  the  appearance  of  self-engrossment,  or  of 
abstraction  while  eating,  and,  for  the  sake  of  health 
of  mind  and  body,  acquire  the  practice  of  a  cheerful 
interchange  of  both  civilities  and  ideas  with  those 
who  may  be,  even  temporarily,  your  associates. 

It  is  now  becoming  usual  among  fashionable 
people  in  this  country  to  adopt  the  French  mode  of 
conducting  ceremonious  dinners,  that  of  placing  such 
portions  of  the  dessert  as  will  admit  of  it,  upon  the 
table,  together  with  plateaux  of  flowers,  and  other 
ornaments,  and  having  the  previous  courses  served 
and  carved  upon  side-tables,  and  offered  to  each 
guest  by  the  attendants.  But  it  will  be  long  before 
this  custom  obtains  generally,  as  a  daily  usage,  even 
among  the  wealthier  classes.  It  will,  so  far  continue 
rather  an  exception  than  a  rule,  that  the  art  of 
carving  should  be  regarded  as  well  worth  acquiring, 
both  as  a  matter  of  personal  convenience,  and  as 
affording  the  means  of  obliging  others.  Like  every 
other  habit  connected  with  matters  of  the  table, 
exquisite  neatness  and  discrimination  should  charac- 
terize the  display  of  this  gentlemanly  accomplish- 
ment. Aim  at  dexterous  and  rapid  manipulation, 
and  shun  the  semblance  of  hurry,  labor,  or  fatigue 


340 


Familiarity  with  the  anatomy  of  poultry  and  game, 
will  greatly  facilitate  ease  and  grace  in  carving. 

Always  help  ladies  with  a  remembrance  of  the 
moderation  and  fastidiousness  of  their  appetites.  If 
possible,  give  them  the  choice  of  selection  in  the 
cuts  of  meats,  especially  of  birds  and  poultry. 

!N"ever  pour  gravy  upon  a  plate,  without  pennis- 
eion.  A  little  of  the  lilling  of  fowls  may  be  put 
with  portions  of  them,  because  that  is  easily  laid 
aside,  without  spoiling  the  meat,  as  gravy  does,  for 
many  persons. 

All  meats  served  in  mass,  should  be  carved  in 
thin  slices^  and  each  laid  upon  one  side  of  the  plate, 
carefully  avoiding  soiling  the  edge,  or  offending  the 
delicacy  of  ladies,  in  particular,  by  too-ensanguined 
juices. 

Different  kinds  of  food  should  never  be  mixed  on 
the  plate.  Keep  each  portion  of  the  accompani- 
ments of  your  meats  neatly  separated,  and,  where 
you  ^ay  for  decency  and  comfort^  take  it  as  a 
matter  of  course  that  your  plate,  knife,  and  fork  are 
to  be  changed  as  often  as  you  partake  of  a  different 
dish  of  meat. 

Fish  is  eaten  with  bread  and  condiments  only ; 
and  the  various  kinds  of  meat  with  vegetables 
appropriate  to  each.  Game^  when  properly  cooked 
and  served,  requires  only  a  bit  of  bread  with  it. 

By  those  who  best  understand  the  art  of  eating, 
luUer  is  never  taken  with  meats  or  vegetables.  The 
latter,  in  their  simple  state,  as  potatoes,  should  be 
eaten  with  salt ;  most  of  them  need  no  condiment,  id 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  341 

addition  to  those  with  which  they  are  dressed  before 
coming  to  table.  Salads,  of  course,  are  prepared 
according  to  individual  taste;  but  the  well-instructed 
take  butter  at  dinner  only  after,  or  as  a  substitute  for, 
the  course  of  pastry,  etc.  with  bread,  if  at  all.  The 
English  make  a  regular  course  of  bread,  cheese,  and 
butter,  preceding  the  dessert  proper — nuts,  fruit, 
etc. ;  but  they  never  eat  both  butter  and  cheese  at 
the  same  time. 

Skins  of  baked  potatoes,  rinds  of  fruit,  etc.,  etc., 
should  never  be  put  upon  the  cloth ;  but  Iread^  both 
at  dinner  and  breakfast,  is  placed  on  the  table,  at  the 
left  side  of  the  plate,  except  it  be  the  small  bit  used 
to  facilitate  the  use  of  the  fork. 

!N"ever  drum  upon  the  table  between  the  courses, 
fidget  in  your  chair,  or  with  your  dress,  or  in  any 
manner  indicate  impatience  of  due  order  and  deli- 
beration, or  indifference  to  the  conversation  of  those 
about  you.  A  gentleman  will  take  time  to  dine 
decorously  and  comfortably.  Those  whose  subser- 
viency to  anything^  or  any  one,  prevents  this,  are 
not  freemen! 

Holding,  as  I  do,  that 

"  To  enjoy  is  to  ohey^ 

let  me  call  your  attention,  in  this  connection,  to  the 
truth  that  the  pleasures  of  the  table  consist  not  so 
much  in  the  quantity  eaten  as  in  the  mode  of  eating, 
A  moderate  amount  of  simple  food,  thoroughly  and 
deliberately  masticated,  and  partaken  of  with  the 
agreeable  accessories  of  quiet,  neatness    and  social 


342 


communion,  will  not  only  be  more  beneficial  to 
the  physical  man,  but  afford  more  positive  enjoy- 
ment, than  a  larger  number  of  dishes,  when  hur- 
riedly eaten  in  greater  quantities. 

I  have  frequently  remarked  among  our  young 
countrymen  a  peculiarity  which  a  moment's  reflec- 
tion will  convince  you  is  exceedingly  injurious  to 
health — that  of  swallowing  an  enormous  amount  of 
fluid  at  every  meal.  Beflect  that  the  human 
stomach  is  scarcely  so  large  as  one  of  the  goblets 
which  is  repeatedly  emptied  at  dinner,  by  most 
men,  and  that  all  liquids  taken  into  that  much- 
abused  organ,  must  be  absorbed  before  the  assimi- 
lation of  solid  food  commences,  and  you  will  see,  at 
once,  what  a  violation  of  the  natural  laws  this 
practice  involves.  Here,  again,  is  one  of  the  evil 
effects  of  the  fast-eating  of  fast  Americans.  Hurry- 
ing almost  to  feverishness,  at  table,  and  only  half 
masticating  their  food,  the  assistance  of  ice-water  is 
invoked  to  facilitate  the  process  of  swallowing,  and 
to  allay  the  more  distressing  symptoms  produced  by 
haste  and  fatigue ! 

Before  we  leave  these  little  matters,  let  us  return 
for  an  instant,  to  that  of  the  posiUon  assumed  while 
^sitting.  The  ^'Ycmkee^^  peculiarity,  so  often  ridi- 
culed by  foreigners,  of  tipping  the  chair  back  upon 
the  two  hind  feet,  is  not  yet  obsolete,  even  in  our 
"  best  society."  Occasionally  some  uninstructed 
rustic  finds  his  way  into  a  fashionable  drawing-room, 
where  "  modern  antique  furniture,"  as  the  manufac- 
turers call  it  in  their  advertisements,  elicits  all  tho 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  343 

proverbial  ingenuity  of  his  native  land,  to  enable 
him  to  indulge  in  his  favorite  attitude.  "  I  thought 
I  saw  the  ghost  of  mj  chair  !"  said  a  fair  friend  to 
me,  as  soon  as  a  visitor  had  left  us  together,  one 
morning,  not  long  since.  '^  I  was  really  distressed 
by  his  efforts  to  tilt  it  back — these  fashionable  chairs 
are  so  frail,  and  he  would  have  been  intensely 
mortified  had  he  broken  it !  Have  you  seen  the 
last  '  Harper,'  Colonel  ?" 

Do  not  permit  yourself,  through  an  indifference  to 
trifles,  to  fall  into  any  unrefined  habits  in  the  use  of 
the  handkerchief,  etc.,  etc.  Boring  the  ears  with 
the  fingers,  chafing  the  limbs,  sneezing  with  unne- 
cessary sonorousness,  and  even  a  too  fond  and  cease- 
less caressing  of  the  moustache,  are  in  bad  taste. 
Everything  connected  with  personal  discomfort,, 
with  the  mere  physique,  should  be  as  unobtrusively 
attended  to  as  possible. 

Wlien  associated  with  women  of  cultivation  and 
refinement — and  you  should  addict  yourself  to  no 
other  female  society — you  cannot  attend  too  care- 
fully to  the  niceties  of  personal  habit.  Sensitive, 
fastidious,  and  very  observant  of  7ninuticB — indeed 
often  judging  of  character  by  details — you  will 
inevitably  lose  ground  with  these  discriminating 
observers,  if  neglectful  of  the  trifles  that  go  far 
towards  constituting  the  amenities  of  social  life. 
An  elegant  modern  writer  is  authority  for  the  facfc 
that  the  Gauls  attributed  to  woman,  "  an  additional 
sense; — the  divine  sense.^^  Perhaps  the  Creator  may 
have  bestowed  this  gift  upon  the  defenseless  sex,  as 


344 


a  counterpoise  to  the  superior  strengtli  and  power  of 
man,  even  as  he  has  given  to  the  more  helpless  of 
the  lower  creatures  swiftness  of  motion,  instead  of 
capacity  for  resistance.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  no 
man  should  permit  himself  any  habit  that  will  not 
bear  the  scrutiny  of  this  divine  sense — much  less, 
one  that  will  outrage  all  its  fine  perceptions. 

Apropos  of  details — I  will  take  leave  to  warn 
you  against  the  swaggering  manner  that  some  young 
men,  whose  bearing  is  otherwise  unexceptionable, 
fall  into  among  strangers,  apparently  with  the 
mistaken  idea  that  they  will  thus  best  sustain  their 
claims  to  an  unequivocal  position  in  society.  So  in 
the  sitting-rooms  at  hotels,  in  the  pump-rooms  at 
watering-places,  on  the  decks  of  steamei-s,  etc., 
persons  whose  juvenility  entitles  them  to  be  classed 
with  those  who  have  nursery  authority  for  being 
"seen  and  not  heard,"  are  frequently  the  most 
conspicuous  and  noisy.  Shallow,  indeed,  must  be 
the  discernment  of  observers  who  conceive  a  favor- 
able impression  of  a  young  man  from  such  an 
exhibition ! 

In  company,  do  not  stand,  or  walk  about  while 
others  sit,  nor  sit  while  others  stand — especially 
ladies.  Acquire  a  light  step,  particularly  for  in- 
door use,  and  a  quiet  mode  of  conducting  yourself, 
generally.  Ladies  and  invalids  will  not  then  dread 
your  presence  as  dangerous— like  that  of  a  rampant 
war-horse,  ill-taught  to 

"  Caper  nimbly  in  a  lady's  chamber  I'* 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  345 

If  you  are  fond  of  playing  at  chess  and  other 
games,  it  will  be  worth  your  while  to  observe  your- 
self until  you  have  fixed  habits  of  entire  politeness, 
under  such  circumstances.  All  unnecessary  move- 
ments, every  manifestation  of  impatience  or  petu- 
lance, and  all  exultation  when  successful,  should  be 
repressed.  Thus,  while  seeking  amusement,  you  may 
acquire  self-control. 

Begin  early  to  remember  that  health  and  good 
spirits  are  easily  impaired,  and  that  habit  will  mate- 
rially assist  us  in  the  patient  endurance  of  suffering 
we  should  manifest  for  the  sake  of  those  about  us — 
attendants,  friends,  "the  bosom-friend  dearer  than 
all,"  whom  no  philosophy  can  teach  insensibility  to 
the  semblance  of  un kindness  from  one  enthroned  in 
her  affections. 

Don't  fall  into  the  habit,  because  you  are  a  branch 
of  the  Lunettes  family,  of  using  glasses  prematurely. 
Students  are  much  in  error  here.  Every  young 
divinity-student,  especially,  seems  emulous  of  this 
troublesome  appendage.  Depend  on  it,  this  is  all 
wrong,  either  absurd  affectation,  or  ignorance  equal- 
ly unfortunate. 

Ladies,  it  is  said,  are  the  readers  of  America,  but 
who  ever  sees  the  dear  creatures  donning  spectacles 
in  youth  ?  Enter  a  female  college  and  look  for  the 
glasses  that,  were  the  youthful  devotees  of  learning 
there  assembled  of  the  other  sex,  would  deform  half 
the  faces  you  observe.  Much  better  were  it  to  inform 
yourselves  of  the  laws  of  optics,  and  use  the  organs 
now  so  generally  abused  by  the  young,  judiciously, 

15* 


346 


resting  them,  when  giving  indications  of  being 
overtaxed,  rather  than  endeavoring  to  supply  artifi- 
cial aid  to  their  natural  strength.  Students,  especial- 
ly, should  always  read  and  write  with  the  hack  to  the 
lights  so  seated  that  the  light  falls  not  upon  the 
eyes,  but  upon  the  book  or  paper  before  them. 
That  reminds  me,  too,  how  important  it  is  that  one 
should  not  stocyp  forward  more  constantly  than  is 
necessary,  while  engaged  in  sedentary  pursuits,  but 
lean  back  rather  than  forward,  as  much  as  possible, 
throwing  out  the  chest  at  the  same  time.  Many 
books  admit  of  being  raised  in  the  hand,  in  aid  of 
this  practice,  and  the  habit  of  rising  occasionally, 
and  expanding  the  chest,  and  straightening  the  limbs 
will  be  found  to  relieve  the  weariness  of  the  seden- 
tary. 

But  nothing  so  effectually  prevents  injury  to 
health,  from  studious  habits,  as  early  rising.  This 
gives  time  for  the  out-door  exercise  that  is  so  requi- 
site as  well  as  for  the  use  of  the  eyes  by  daylight. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  nonsense  mixed  up  with  our 
literature,  which  seizes  the  fancy  of  the  young, 
because  embodied  in  poetry,  or  clothed  with  the 
charm  of  fiction.  Of  this  nature  is  what  we  read 
about,  "  trimming  the  midnight  lamp,"  to  search  for 
the  Pierean  spring.     Obey  the 

"  Breezy  call  of  incense-breathing  mom," 

and  she  will  environ  you  with  a  joyous  band  of 
blooming  Hours,  and  guide  you  gaily  and  lightly 


TO   rOLITENESS   AND   FASniON.  347 

towards  sparkling  waters, whose  properties  are  Know- 
ledge and  Health ! 

But  if  jou  would  habitually  rise  early,  you  must 
not  permit  every  trivial  temptation  to  prevent  your 
also  retiring  early.  The  laws  of  fashionable  life  are 
Borely  at  variance  with  those  of  Health,  on  this 
point,  as  well  as  upon  many  others ;  but,  happily, 
they  are  not  absolute^  and  those  who  have  useful  pur- 
poses to  accomplish  each  day,  must  withstand  the 
tyranny  of  this  arbitrary  despot.  Time  for  the  toi- 
let, for  exercise,  for  intellectual  culture  and  mental 
relaxation,  is  thus  best  secured.  By  using  the  earlier 
hours  of  each  day  for  our  most  imperative  occupa- 
tions, we  are  far  less  at  the  mercy  of  contingent  cir- 
cumstances than  we  can  become  by  any  other  system 
of  life.  "  Solitude,"  says  Gibbon,  "is  the  school  of 
Genius,"  and  the  advantages  of  this  tuition  are  most 
certainly  secured  before  the  idlers  of  existence  are 
abroad ! 

Avoid  the  habit  of  regarding  yourself  as  an  inva- 
lid, and  of  taking  nostrums.  A  knowledge  and  obser- 
vance of  the  rules  of  Dietetics  are  often  better  than 
the  concentered  wisdom  of  a  Dispensary,  abstinence 
more  effective  than  medical  applications,  and  the 
recuperative  power  of  N'ature,  when  left  to  work  out 
her  own  restoration,  frequently  superior  to  the  most 
skillful  aid  of  learned  research.  But  when  compel- 
led to  avail  yourself  of  medical  assistance,  seek  that 
which  science  and  integrity  render  safest.  "No  sensible 
man,  one  would  think,  will  intrust  the  best  boon  of 
earth  to  the  merciless  experiments  of  unprincipled  and 


318  THE   AMEltlCAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

ignorant  charlatans,  or  credulously  swallow  quack 
medicines  recommended  by  old  women:  and  yet, 
while  people  employ  the  most  accomplished  hatter, 
tailor,  and  boot-maker,  whose  services  they  can 
secure,  they  will  give  up  the  inner  man  to  the  influ- 
ence of  such  impositions  upon  the  credulity  of 
humanity ! 

Assuming,  as  an  accepted  truth,  that  it  is  your 
purpose,  through  life,  to  admit  the  rights  of  our  fair 
tyrants 

"  In  court  or  cottage,  wheresoe'er  their  home," 

1  will  commend  to  you  the  early  acquisition  of  habits 
appropriate  to  our  relations  to  women  as  their  jpro- 
tectors.  In  dancing,  riding,  driving,  walking,  boat- 
ing, travelling,  etc.,  etc., — wherever  the  sexes  are 
brought  together  in  this  regard  (and  where  are  they 
not,  indeed,  when  commingled  at  all  ?) — observe  the 
gentle  courtesies,  exhibit  the  watchful  care,  that  go 
far  towards  constitutiug  the  settled  charms  of  such 
intercourse.  It  is  not  to  be  forgotten,  as  I  think  I 
have  before  remarked,  that  women  judge  of  charac- 
ter, often,  from  trifling  details  ;  thus,  any  well-bred 
woman  will  be  able  to  tell  you  which  of  her  acquain- 
tances habitually  removes  his  hat,  or  throws  aside  his 
cigar,  when  addressing  her,  and  who,  of  all  others,  is 
most  watchfnl  for  her  comfort,  when  she  is  abroad 
under  his  escort.  Be  sure,  too,  that  this  same  fair 
one  could  confess,  if  she  would  make  a  revelation  on 
the  subject,  exactly  what  men  she  shuns  because 
they  break  her  fans,  disarrange  her  bouquets,  tear  her 


TO   rOLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  34:9' 

flounces,  toucli  her  paintings  and  prints  witli  moist 
fingers  (instead  of  merely  pointing  to  some  part) 
handle  delicate  lijouterie  with  dark  gloves,  dance 
with  uncovered  hands,  etc.,  etc.  But  even  if  jou 
are  her  confidant^  she  will  not  tell  you  how  often  her 
quick  sensibility  is  wounded  by  fancying  herself  the 
subject  of  the  smirks^  whispers^  and  hnowing  glances 
in  which  some  men  indulge  when  grouped  with  their 
kindred  bipeds,  in  society ! 

At  the  risk  of  subjecting  myself  to  the  charge  of 
repetition,  I  will  endeavor,  before  concluding  this 
letter,  to  enumerate  such  Habits  as,  in  -  addition  to 
those  of  which  I  have  already  spoken,  I  deem  most 
entitled  to  the  attention  of  those  who  are  establish- 
ing a  system  of  life. 

Habits  of  reading  and  studying  once  thoroughly 
formed,  are  invaluable,  not  only  as  affording  a  ready 
resource  against  ennui,  or  idleness,  everywhere  and 
under  all  circumstances,  but  as  necessarily  involving 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  even  when  of  the  most 
desultory  character.  It  is  wonderful  how  much  gene- 
ral information  may  be  gleaned  by  this  practice  of 
reading  something  whenever  one  has  a  few  spare 
grains  of  the  ^'gold-dust  of  Time^'' — minutes.  I 
once  found  a  remarkably  well-informed  woman  of 
my  acquaintance  waiting  to  make  breakfast  for  her 
husband  and  me,  with  a  little  old  dictionary  open  in 
her  hand.  "For  what  word  are  you  looking,  so 
early  ?"  I  inquired,  as  I  discovered  the  character  of 
the  volume  she  held.  "  For  no  one  in  particular," 
returned  she,  "but  one  can  always  add  to   one's 


360 


stores  from  any  book,  were  it  only  in  the  matter  of 
spelling^  But  the  true  way,  of  course,  to  derive 
most  advantage  from  this  enjoyment  is  to  systematize 
in  relation  to  it,  reading  well-selected  books  with 
care  and  attention  suflScient  to  enable  us  permanent- 
ly to  add  the  information  they  contain  to  our 
previous  mental  possessions. 

You  will  only  need  to  be  reminded  how  much  ease 
and  elegance  in  ^^acZm^a^M^^Z  depend  upon  habit. 

Without  the  Hahit  of  Industry^  good  resolutions, 
the  most  sincere  desire  for  self-improvement,  and  the 
most  desirable  natural  gifts,  will  be  of  comparatively 
little  avail  for  the  practical  purposes  of  existence. 
This  unpretending  attribute,  together  with  System 
and  Regularity^  has  achieved  more  for  the  good  of 
the  race,  than  all  the  erratic  efforts  of  genius  combin- 
edly. 

"  Don't  run  about,"  says  a  sensible  writer,  "  and 
tell  your  acquaintances  you  have  been  unfortunate ; 
people  do  not  like  to  have  unfortunate  men  for 
acquaintances.  Add  to  a  vigorous  determination,  a 
cheerful  spirit ;  if  reverses  come,  bear  them  like  a 
philosopher,  and  get  rid  of  them  as  soon  as  you  can." 
Cheerfulness  and  Contentment^  like  every  other 
mental  quality,  may  be  cultivated  until  they  mate- 
rially assist  us  in  enduring 

"  The  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune," 

and  early  attention  to  the  attainment  of  these  mental 

habits  is  a  matter  of  both  personal  and  relative  duty. 

Cherish  self-resjpect  as,  next  to  a  firm  religious 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  351 

faith,  the  best  safeguard  to  respectability  and  peace 
of  mind.  Entirely  consistent  with — indeed,  in  a 
degree,  productive  of  the  most  careful  consideration 
of  the  rights  of  others,  the  legitimate  development  of 
this  quality  will  tend  to  preserve  you  from  unwise  con- 
fidences, from  injudicious  intimacies,  and  from  gross 
indulgences  and  unworthy  pursuits.  This  will 
sustain  you  in  the  manly  acknowledgment  oijpoverty^ 
if  that  shall  chance  to  be  your  lot,  when  pride  and 
principle  contend  for  the  mastery  in  practical 
matters,  and  enable  you  to  realize  fully,  that 

"  To  bear,  is  to  conquer  our  fate !" 

This  will  strengthen  you  to  the  endurance  of  that 
which  nothing  but  absolute  insignificance  can  escape 
— calumny.  It  will  preserve  you  alike  from  an 
undue  eagerness  in  defending  yourself  from  unjust 
aspersion,  and  frora  a  servile  fear  of  "  the  world's 
dread  laugh,"  from  meriting  and  from  resenting 
scandal,  and  convince  you  that  its  most  effectual 
contradiction  consists  in  a  virtuous  life.  By  listen- 
ing to  the  dictates  of  this  powerful  coadjutor  of 
conscience^  you  will  believe  with  the  poet,  that 

"Honor  and  Fame  from.no  condition  rise," 

and  thus,  with  straightforward  and  unvarying  pur^ 
pose,  illustrate  your  adoption  of  the  motto, 

"-4ci  well  your  part,  there  all  the  honor  lies!" 

While  I  would  earnestly  counsel  you  to  avoid  that 
constant  self  consciousness  which  is  nearly  allied  to 


352 


vanity  and  egotism,  if  not  identical  with  tliem,  you 
will  find  the  habitual  practice  of  self-examination 
greatly  conducive  to  improvement.  A  calm,  impar- 
tial analysis  of  words  and  actions,  tracing  each 
to  their  several  motives,  must  tend  to  assist  us  to 
Icnow  ourselves,  w^hich  an  ancient  philosopher,  you 
may  remember,  pronounced  the  highest  human 
attainment.  Arraign  yourself,  without  the  advan- 
tage oi  special  pleading,  to  borrow  a  legal  phrase,  at 
the  bar  of  conscience,  regarding  this  arbiter  as  the 
voice  of  Divinity  enshrined  within  us,  whenever 
assailed  by  doubts  respecting  any  course  of  conduct 
you  have  adopted,  or  propose  to  adopt,  and  where 
you  are  thus  taught  to  draw  the  line  of  demarcation 
between  right  and  wrong, 

"  Let  that  aye  be  your  border." 

In  this  connection  permit  me  to  recommend  the 
regular  study  of  the  Bihle,  and  a  systematic  attend- 
ance upon  public  worship  on  the  Sabbath.  Do  not 
read  this  most  wonderful  of  books  as  a  tasTc,  nor  yet 
permit  the  trammels  of  early  associations,  hereditary 
prejudice,  or  blind  superstition,  to  interfere  with 
your  search  for  the  truths  contained  in  its  pages. 
Try  to  read  the  Scriptures  as  you  would  any  other 
book,  with  the  aid  of  such  collateral  information  as 
you  may  be  able  to  obtain  respecting  the  origin  of 
the  several,  and  wholly,  distinct  productions  of  which 
it  is  composed,  the  authors  of  each,  the  purposes  for 
which  they  were  composed,  and,  in  short,  possess 
yourself  of  every  available  means  of  giving  reality, 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  BASHION.  S53 

simplicity,  and  truthfulness  to  your  investigations. 
Study  the  Life  of  Christy  as  written  by  the  personal 
friends  who  were  most  constantly  and  intimately 
associated  with  him.  Ponder  upon  his  familiar 
sayings,  remembered,  and  recorded  in  their  simple 
memoranda,  by  the  unlettered  men  who  most  fre- 
quently listened  to  them,  compare  the  acts  of  Christ 
with  his  doctrines  as  a  teacher,  and  judge  for  your- 
selves whether  history,  ancient  or  modern,  has  any 
parallel  for  the  Perfection  of  the  Model  thus  exhibited 
to  the  human  race.  Decide  whether  he  was  not 
the  only  earthly  being  who  "  never  did  an  injury, 
never  resented  one  done  to  him,  never  uttered  an 
untruth,  never  practised  a  deception,  and  never  lost 
an  opportunity  of  doing  good."  Having  determined 
this  point  in  your  own  minds,  adopt  this  glorious 
pattern  for  imitation,  and  adhere  to  it,  until  you  find 
a  truer  and  better  model.  We  have  nothing  to  do 
in  judging  of  this  matter  with  the  imperfect  illustra- 
tions afforded  by  the  lives  of  professed  imitators  of 
Christ  of  the  perfectibility  to  which  his  teachings  tend. 
Why  look  to  indifferent  copies,  when  the  great  origi- 
nal is  ever  before  us !  Why  seek  in  the  frailty  and 
fallibility  of  human  nature  a  justification  of  personal 
distrust  and  indifference  ? 

!N"o  gentleman — to  come  to  practicalities  again — 
will  indulge  in  ridiculing  what  intelligent,  enlighten- 
ed persons  receive  as  truth,  on  any  point,  much  less 
upon  this.  IS^or  will  a  well-bred  man  permit  himself 
the  habit  of  being  late  at  church — were  it  only  that 
those  who  stand  in  a  servile  relation  to  others^  ai'e 


354  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

often  deprived  of  time  for  suitable  preliminariea 
of  the  toile-t,  etc.,  lie  will  carefully  avoid  this  vul- 
garity. 

The  tendency  to  materialism^  so  strongly  charac* 
terizing  the  age  in  which  we  live,  produces,  among 
its  pernicious  collateral  effects,  a  disposition  to 
reduce  "  Heaven's  last,  best  gift  toman"  to  the  same 
practical  standard  by  which  we  judge  of  all  matters 
of  the  outer  life, — oieach  other  especially.  Well 
might  Burke  deplore  the  departure  of  the  Age  of 
Chivalry !  But  not  even  the  prophetic  eye  of 
genius  could  discern  the  degeneracy  that  was  to 
increase  so  rapidly,  from  the  day  in  which  he  wrote, 
to  this.  As  a  mere  matter  of  personal  gratification, 
I  would  cherish  the  inclination  to  idealize  in  regard 
to  the  fairer  part  of  creation  I  There  is  enough  that  is 
stern,  hard,  baldly  utilitarian,  in  life  ;  we  have 
no  need  to  rob  this  "  one  fair  spirit "  of  every  poetic 
attribute,  by  system !  Few  habits  have  so  much  the 
effect  to  elevate  us  above  the  clods  we  tread  plod- 
dingly over  in  the  dreary  highway  of  mortal  exis- 
tence, as  that  of  investing  woman  with  the  purest, 
highest  attributes  of  our  common  nature,  and  bear- 
ing ourselves  towards  her  in  accordance  with  these 
elevated  sentiments.  And  when  compelled,  in  indi- 
vidual instances,  to  set  aside  these  cherished  impres- 
sions, let  nothing  induce  us  to  forget  ih.2it ^assive^ 
silent  forbearance  is  our  only  resource.  True  man- 
hood can  never  become  the  active  antagonist  of 
defencelessness. 

I  am  almost  ashamed  to  remind  you  of  the  gross 


TO   POLITENESS    AND  FASHION.  355 

impropriety  of  speaking  loosely  and  loudly  of  ladies 
of  your  acquaintance  in  the  hearing  of  strangers,  of 
desecrating  their  names  by  mouthing  them  in  bar- 
rooms and  similar  public  places,  scribbling  them 
upon  windows,  recording  them,  without  their  per- 
mission, in  the  registers  kept  at  places  visited  from 
curiosity,  etc.,  etc.  You  have  no  moral  right  to 
take  such  liberties  in  this  respect,  as  you  would  not 
tolerate  in  the  relation  of  brother,  son,  or  husband, 

Thinh,  then,  and  speak,  ever,  with  due  reverence 
of  those  guardian  angels, 

"  Into  whose  hands  from  first  to  last, 
This  world  with  all  its  destinies, 
Devotedly  by  Heaven  seems  cast !" 

If  you  determine  to  conform  yourselves,  as  far  as 
in  you  lies,  to  the  model  presented  for  your  imita- 
tion by  Him  who  said — "  Be  ye,  therefore,  perfect, 
even  as  I  am  perfect,"  you  will  not  disregard  the 
cultivation  of  a  ready  sympathy  with  the  sufferings 
and  trials  of  your  fellow  beings.  In  place  of  adopt- 
ing a  system  that  will  not  only  steel  your  heart,  but 
infuse  into  your  whole  nature  distrust  and  suspicion, 
you  will,  like  Him  who  went  about  doing  good, 
quickly  discern  suffering,  in  whatever  form  it  pre- 
sents itself,  and  minister,  at  least,  the  balm  of  a  kind 
word,  when  naught  else  may  be  offered.  You  will 
thus  learn  not  only  to  pity  the  erring,  but,  per- 
chance, sometimes  to  ask  yourselves  in  profound 
humility — "  wlw  hath  made  me  to  differ  .^" 

Young  men  sometimes  fall  into  the  impression 


356  THE   AMERICAN   GEin-LEMAN's   GUIDE 

that  a  mocking  insensibility  to  human  woe  is  manly 
— something  grand  and  distinguished.  So  they  turn 
with  lofty  scorn  from  a  starving  child,  make  the 
embarrassment  and  distress  of  a  poor  mother  with 
a  wailing  infant  the  subject  of  audible  mirth  in  a 
rail-car,  or  stage-coach,  ridicule  the  peevishness 
of  illness,  the  tears  of  wounded  sensibility,  or  the 
confessions  of  the  penitent !  Now,  it  seems  to  me, 
that  all  this  is  super-human  in  its  sublime  elevation  I 
My  small  knowledge  of  the  history  of  the  greatly  good, 
affords  no  parallels  for  the  adoption  of  such  a  creed. 
I  have  read  of  a  Howard  who  terminated  a  life 
devoted  to  the  benefit  of  his  race,  in  a  noisome  dun- 
geon, where  he  sought  to  minister  to  human  suffer- 
ing ;  of  a  Fenelon,  and  a  Cheverus  whose  Gatholio 
spirit  broke  the  thralling  restrains  of  sectarianism, 
m  favor  of  general  humanity;  of  the  graceful 
chivalry  and  large  benevolence  of  Sir  Walter  Ka- 
leigh  and  Sir  Philip  Sidney;  of  triumphant  soldiers 
who  bound  up  the  wounds  and  preserved  the  lives 
of  a  fallen  foe ;  of  a  Wilberforce,  a  Pease,  and  a 
Father  Mathew;  of  Leigh  Kichmond,  Keginald 
Heber,  and  Robert  Hall ;  of  the  parable  of  the  good 
Samaritan,  and  of  its  Divine  Author — and  I  believe 
the  mass  of  mankind  agree  with  me  in,  at  least,  an 
abstract  admiration  for  the  characters  of  each !  And 
though  no  great  achievements  in  the  cause  of  Philan- 
thropy may  be  in  our  power,  though  no  mighty 
deeds  may  embalm  our  memories  amid  the  imperish- 
able records  of  Time,  let  us  not  overlook  those  small 
acts  of  kindness,  those  trifling  proofs  of  sympathy. 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  367 

which  all  have  at  command.  A  look,  a  word,  a 
smile — what  talismanic  power  do  even  these  some- 
times possess  I     Eemember,  then,  that, 

Heaven  decrees 


To  all  the  gift  of  ministering  to  ease  /" 

In  close  association  with  the  wish  to  minister  to 
the  happiness  of  others,  as  far  as  in  us  lies,  is  that  of 
avoiding  every  self-indulgence  that  may  interfere 
with  the  comfort  or  the  rights  of  others.  Hence  the 
cultivation  of  good-humor,  and  of  habits  of  neatness, 
order,  and  Tegula/rity,  Prompted  by  this  rule,  we 
will  not  smoke  in  the  streets,  in  rail-cars,  on  the 
iecks  of  steamers,  at  the  entrance  of  concert  and 
lecture  rooms,  or  in  parlors  frequented  by  ladies. 
"We  will  not  even  forget  that  neglect  of  matters  of 
the  toilet,  in  the  nicest  details,  may  render  us  unplea- 
sant companions  for  those  accustomed  to  fastidious- 
ness upon  these  points. 

To  the  importance  of  well-regulated  habits  of 
Exercise,  Temperance,  and  Relaxation,  I  have 
already  called  your  attention  in  a  previous  Letter. 

Nothing  tends  more  effectually  to  the  production 
of  genuine  independence,  than  personal  Economy. 
ITo  habit  will  more  fully  enable  you  to  be  generous 
as  well  as  just,  and  to  gratify  your  better  impulses 
and  more  refined  tastes,  than  the  exercise  of  this  un- 
ostentatious art. 

Kemember  that  meanness  is  not  economy,  any 
more  than  it  is  integrity. 


358 


To  be  wisely  economical  requires  tlie  exercise  of 
the  reflective  faculties  united  with  practical  expe- 
rience, self-denial,  send  moral  dignity.  Kightly 
viewed,  there  is  nothing  in  it  degrading  to  the 
noblest  nature. 

Punctuality  both  in  pleasure  and  in  business 
engagements,  is  alike  due  to  others,  and  essential  to 
personal  convenience.  You  will,  perhaps,  have 
observed  that  this  was  one  of  the  distinguishing  traits 
of  Washington. 

Somebody  says — "  Ceremony  is  the  Paradise  of 
Eools."  The  same  may  be  said  with  equal  truth,  of 
system.  To  be  truly  free,  one  should  not  be  the 
slave  of  any  one  rule,  nor  of  many  combined. 
System,  like  other  agencies,  if  judiciously  regulated, 
materially  aids  the  establishment  of  good  habits 
generally,  and  thus  places  us  beyond  the  dominion 
of 

"  Circumstance^  that  tmspiritttal  god.''^ 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  used  to  remark  that  "  Nothing 
is  denied  to  well-directed  effort."  Let  Perseverance 
then,  be  united  with  Excelsior  in  your  practical 
creed. 

I  think  I' have  made  some  allusion  to  the  Art  of 
Cowversation.  Let  me  "  make  assurance  doubly 
sure,"  by  the  emphatic  recommendation  of  ^r<2<?^^ce 
in  this  elegant  accomplishment.  All  mental  acquisi- 
tions are  the  better  secured  by  the  habit  of  putting 
ideas  into  words.  By  this  process,thought  becomes 
clearer,  more  tangible,  so  to  speak,  and  new  ideas 


TO   rO-LITENESS   AND  FASHION.  359 

are  actually  engendered,  while  we  are  giving  expres- 
sion to  those  previously  in  our  possession. 

In  addition  to  the  individual  advantage  accruing 
from  this  excellent  mode  of  training  yourselves  for 
easy  and  effective  extemporaneous  public  speaking^ 
it  should  not  be  overlooked,  as  affording  the  means 
of  conferring  both  pleasure  and  benefit  upon  others. 
Taciturnity  and  self-engrossment,  you  may  remark, 
are  not  the  prominent  characteristics  of  the  favorites 
of  society. 

Nor  does  the  practice  of  ready  speaking  necessa- 
rily interfere  with  habits  of  Reflection  and  Ohservor 
tion.  On  the  contrary,  the  mental  activity  thus 
promoted,  naturally  leads  to  the  accumulation  of 
intellectual  material  by  every  available  means. 
Discrimination  in  judging  of  character,  and  true 
Jcnowledge  of  the  world^  without  which  all  abstract 
knowledge  is  comparatively  of  little  avail,  can  never 
be  attained  except  through  the  persevering  exercise 
of  these  powers. 

Shall  I  venture  to  remind  you,  my  dear  young 
friends,  that  the  manifestation  of  respect  for  misfor- 
tune^ suffering^  and  age^  may  become  one  of  your 
attributes  by  the  force  of  habit  strengthening  good 
impulses. 

Will  you  think  me  deficient  in  utilitarianism  if  I 
recommend  to  you  a  cultivation  of  the  power  to 
discern  the  Beautiful^  as  a  perpetual  source  of  pure 
and  exalted  enjoyment?  Hard,  grinding,  soul-tram- 
melling, is  the  dominion  of  real  life ;  will  we  be  less 
worthy  of  our  immortal  destinies,  that  we  cherish  an 


360 


mner  sense,  by  whicli  we  readily  perceive  moral 
beauty,  shining  as  a  ray  from  the  very  altar  of  Divi- 
nity, or  the  tokens  of  the  presence  of  that  Divinity 
afforded  by  the  wonders  of  the  natural  world  ?  Let 
us  not  be  mere  beasts  of  burden,  so  laden  with  the 
cares,  the  anxieties,  or  even  the  duties  of  life,  as  to 
have  no  eye  for  the  unobtrusive,  but  often  fragrant 
and  lovely  flowers,  that  bloom  along  the  most 
neglected  of  our  daily  paths. 

Speaking  of  the  Beautiful,  reminds  me  that  ours 
jjs  the  only  civilized  land  where  the  sesthetical  percep- 
tions of  the  people  are  not  a  sufficient  safeguard  to 
the  preservation  of  Works  of  Art,  in  their  humblest 
as  well  as  most  magnificent  exhibitions.  Nothing 
short  of  the  brutalizing  influence  of  a  Reign  of 
Terror  will  tempt  a  Parisian  populace  to  the  desecra 
tion  of  these  expressions  of  refinement,  taste,  and 
beauty ;  while  among  us,  not  even  an  ornamental 
paling,  inclosing  a  private  residence,  or  the  colon- 
nade of  a  public  edifice,  escapes  staring  tokens  of 
the  presence  of  this  gothic  barbarism  in  our  midst. 

You  will  scarcely  need  to  be  cautioned  against 
confounding  mere  curiosity  with  a  liberal  and  en- 
lightened observation  of  life  and  manners.  All  those 
indications  of  undue  curiosity  respecting  the  private 
affairs  of  others,  expressed  by  listening  to  conversa- 
tion not  intended  for  the  general  ear,  watching  the 
asides  of  society,  glancing  at  letters  addressed  to 
another,  or  asking  direct  questions  of  a  personal 
nature,  are  unmistakable  proofs  of  ignorance  of  the 
rules  of  polished  life,  though  they  arc  not  as  repro- 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  361 

heusible  as  evil-sjpeaking^  a  love  of  scandal^  or  the 
practice  of  violating  either  the  confidence  of  friends 
or  the  saxirednfiess  of  private  conversation. 

Though  a  vast  dijfference  is  created  in  this  respect 
by  difference  of  temperament,  yet  no  man  can  hope 
to  acquire  the  degree  of  self-possession  that  shall  fit 
him  for  a  successful  encounter  with  the  ever-varying 
emergencies  demanding  its  illustration,  without  re- 
peated and  re-repeated  struggles  and  discomfitures. 
But  so  invaluable  is  the  treasure,  so  essential  to  the 
legitimate  exercise  of  every  faculty  of  our  being, 
that  defeat  should  only  render  more  indomitable  the 
"  will  to  do,  the  soul  to  dare,"  in  persevering  endeav- 
ors to  secure  its  permanent  acquisition. 

Let  me  impress  upon  you  the  truth  that  self-pos- 
session is  the  legitimate  result  of  a  well-discvplined 
mind^  and-that  it  is  properly  expressed  by  a  quiet 
and  modest  hearing. 

In  conclusion,  let  me  earnestly  and  affectionately 
assure  you  that  the  formation  of  right  habits,  though 
necessarily  attended,  for  a  time,  by  failures,  difficul 
ties,  or  discouragements,  will  eventually  prove  its 
own  all-sufficient  reward.  Habitude  of  thought,  lan- 
guage, appointment,  and  manner  that  shall  entitle 
you  to  claim 

"  The  good  old  name  of  Gentleman^ 

once  yours,  and  you  will  be  armed,  point  of  proof, 
against  the  exacting  capriciousness  of  fashion,  and 
forever  exempted  from  the  tortures  often  inflicted 

16 


upon  the  sensitive,  by  the  insidious  invasions  ol  self- 
distrust  ! 


Strolling  through  the  Crystal  Palace  at  London, 
soon  after  it  was  opened,  with  a  young  fellow-coun- 
tryman, he  suddenly  broke  out  with — "Will  you  just 
look  at  that  fellow,  colonel  ?"  Turning  and  follow- 
ing the  direction  indicated  by  his  eye  (not  his  finger 
or  walking-stick,  he  was  too  well-bred  to  jpoint  /)  I 
discerned,  in  a  different  part  of  the  building.  Queen 
Victoria,  accompanied  by  Prince  Albert  and  two  of 
the  royal  children,  examining  some  articles  in  the 
American  Department.  Yery  near  the  stopping- 
place  of  this  distinguished  party,  a  representative  of 
the  "  universal  Yankee  nation,"  had  stationed  him- 
self— perhaps  in  a  semi-official  capacity — upon  the 
apex  of  some  elevation,  with  his  hat  on,  and  his  long 
legs  dangling  down  in  front,  nearly  on  a  level  with 
the  heads  of  passers-by. 

We  could  not  hear  the  words  of  her  Majesty,  but 
it  was  apparent  that  she  addressed  some  inquiry  to 
him  of  the  legs.  First  ejecting  a  torrent  of  tobao- 
co-juice  from  his  mouth,  and  rolling  away  the  huge 
quid  that  obstructed  his  utterance,  he  deliberately 
proceeded  to  give  the  explanation  desired,  retaining 
not  only  his  position,  but  his  hat,  the  while  ! 

Meantime,  as  soon  as  the  Queen  commenced 
addressing  this  person,  her  Koyal  Consort  removed 
his  hat,  and  remained  uncovered  until  she  again 
moved  on.    I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  face  of  my 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  363 

companion.  Shame  and  indignation  contended  for 
the  mastery  on  his  burning  clieek ! 

"Good  G , Colonel!"  he  exclaimed,  "to  think 

of  such  a  mere  brute  as  that  being  regarded  as  a  fair 
specimen  of  the  advance  of  civilization  among  us  I 
'Tis  enough  to  make  a  decent  man  disclaim  his  birth- 
right here  !  And  yet,  I  have  little  enough  to  boast  of 
myself!  Only  think  of  my  taking  some  English 
gentlemen  who  were  in  Kew-York  a  month  or  two 
ago,  to  see  our  paries  (heaven  save  the  mark  !)  among 
other  objects  of  interest  in  the  city !     Yesterday,  Sir 

John ,  who  was  one  of  the  party,  drove  about 

London  with  me,  and  took  me  also  to  Kensington 
Garden,  St.  James'  and  Eegent's  Parks !  I  don't 
know  what  would  tempt  me  again  to  undergo  the 
thing !  I  rather  think  I  am  effectually  cured,  hence- 
forth and  for  ever,  of  any  inclination  to  hoast  of  any- 
thing whatever^  jpersonal  or  national  /" 


"  As  you  are  the  only  *  gentleman  of  elegant 
leisure'  in  the  family,  at  present,  Harry,  suppose 
you  take  these  girls  to  New  York  for  a  week  or 
two.  For  my  part,  it's  as  much  as  1  can  do  to 
provide  money  for  the  expedition,"  said  your  uncle 
William  to  me,  one  evening. 

"  Oh,  do,  dear  uncle  Hal !"  exclaimed  Ida,  with 
great  vivacity,  sitting  down  on  a  low  stool  at  my 
feet,  and  clasping  her  hands  upon  my  knee,  "  we 
always  love  dearly  to  go  with  you  anywhere,  you 
are  so  good  to  us." 


S64 

"  Yes !"  broke  in  William  junior,  "  uncle  Harry 
spoils  you  so  completely  by  indulgence  that  I  can  do 
nothing  with  you.  You're  a  most  unruly  set,  at 
home  and  abroad." 

A  sudden  twitch  at  the  end  of  his  cravat  effec- 
tually demolished  the  elegant  tie  upon  which  the 
young  gentleman  prides  himself,  as  little  Jul^,  who 
was  close  beside  him,  pretending  to  get  her  French 
lesson,  and  had  perpetrated  the  mischief,  cried  out — 
"What's  the  reason,  then,  that  you  always  take  us 
all  along,  when  you  go  out  in  the  woods,  and  off  to 
the  shore — hey,  Mr.  Willie  ?" 

"  Do  be  quiet,  children,"  interrupted  Ida,  reprov- 
ingly; "now,  uncle  dear,  won't  you  take  us?  I 
want  some  new  traps  badly." 

"  What  kind  of  traps? — mouse  traps?" 

"  Mem  trajps^  to  be  sure !" 

"  Well,  that's  honest,  at  least.  Puss." 

"My  purposes  are  more  murderous  than  Ida's,'' 
said  Cornelia,  laughing ;  "I  wan't  to  buy  a  new 
mcmkilleTy  as  Willie  calls  them." 

"It's  too  late  in  the  season  for  mantillas,"  re- 
marked Ida,  profoundly. 

"A  fashionable  cloak  will  serve  Cornelia's  pur- 
pose equally  well,"  returned  her  father,  quietly. 

"  And,  like  the  mantle  of  charity,  it  will  hide  a 
multitude  of  sins,"  chimed  in  her  brother. 

"  Your  running  commentaries  are  highly  edifying, 
my  dear  nephew,"  said  I,  and  at  the  same  moment  a 
large  red  rose  hit  him  full  on  the  nose. 

It  was  soon  arranged  that  your  fair  cousins  should 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  365 

accompany  me  to  the  Empire  City  in  a  few  days, 
and  I,  accordingly,  sat  down  at  once,  and  wrote  to 
the  "  Metropolitan  "  for  rooms. 

"  What  glorious  times  mother  and  I  will  have," 
I  overheard  William  exclaim.  "I  shall  take  Jul^ 
nnder  my  especial  protection,  and  hear  her  French 
lessons  regularly." 

"1^0  you  won't,  either,"  returned  that  young  lady, 
with  great  spirit ;  "  and  I  wish  you'd  stop  tying  my 
curls  together,  and  mind  your  own  affairs.  'No  doubt 
you'll  make  noise  enough  to  kill  ma  and  me,  while 
Corne  and  Dade  are  gone,  drumming  on  the  piano, 
and  spouting  your  Latin  speech  before  the  drawing- 
room  glass.  All  I  wish  is,  that  uncle  Hal  wasn't 
going  away — he  never  lets  you  torment  me." 

As  we  were  entering  the  dining-room  of  our  hotel, 

on  the  day  of  our  arrival,  our  friend  Governor  S • 

joined  us,  and,  after  shaking  hands,  in  his  usual  cor- 
dial way,  with  us  all,  said,  as  he  courteously  took 
Cornelia's  hand  and  folded  it  within  his  arm,  "  Will 
you  allow  me  to  attend  you.  Miss  Lunettes  ?  Colonel, 
by  your  leave.  Miss  Ida,  will  you  let  a  lonely 
old  fellow  join  your  party?  Where  do  you  sit, 
Colonel?" 

"  We  have  but  just  arrived,"  I  replied,  "  but  our 
seats  are,  of  course,  reserved ;  let  me  secure  a  seat 
for  you  with  us,  if  possible.     Ida,  remain  here  a 

moment  with  Cornelia  and  Governor  S- ;"  and 

presently,  finding  the  proper  person,  the  steward,  or 
whatever  the  man  of  dining-room  affairs  is  called. 


see 


1  arranged  with  him  to  seat  us  together,  without 
interfering  with  other  parties. 

While  I  was  taking  mj  soup,  I  became  suddenly 
conscious  that  something  was  annoying  your  cousin 
Cornelia,  who  sat  between  me  and  S .  Glanc- 
ing at  her  face,  I  saw  there,  in  addition  to  a  height- 
ened color,  an  expression  of  mingled  constraint  and 
hauteur,  quite  inconsistent  with  her  usual  graceful 
sielf-possession  and  animation. 

Making  some  general  remark  to  her,  and  showing 
no  signs  of  curiosity,  I  began  quietly  to  cast  about 
me  for  the  cause  of  this  unwonted  disturbance. 
Turning  my  head  towards  Ida,  I  overheard  her 
saying,  playfully,  though  in  an  undertone,  to  the 
senator,  with  whom  she  was  already  embarked  upon 
the  tide  of  talk :  "  He  reminds  me  of  an  exquisite 
couplet  in  an  old  valentine  of  mine  : 

*  Are  not  my  ears  as  long  as  other  asses\  pray  ? 
Don't  I  surpass  all  other  asses  at  a  bray  V  " 

I  was  not  long  in  detecting  the  secret  cause  of 
Cornelia's  averted  face  and  Ida's  sportive  quota* 
tion. 

"See  here,  John,  get  me  some  col'  slaw  and 
unions,  will  you — right  off,"  shouted  a  young  man 
seated  a  little  below  us,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
table. 

I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  half-repressed 
wonder  depicted  in  the  countenance  of  the  servant 
thus    addressed,   as  he  glanced    at    the    piece  of 


TO  POLITENESB   AND   FASHION.  367 

"  Mackerel  a  la  maitre  d^E.otel^'^  as  the  bill  of  fare 
called  the  fish  on  his  plate. 

"Oh,  for  a  Hogarth  to  do  justice  to  the  figure 
that  had  arrested  my  attention !  The  face  was  not 
bad,  perhaps.  A  merry,  dark  eye,  lit  up  with  the 
very  spirit  of  mischief  and  impudence ;  a  tolerably 
high,  but  narrow  forehead ;  thick,  wild-looking 
black  hair,  parted  on  the  top  of  the  head,  and 
bushy  whiskers — add  large,  handsome  teeth,  dis- 
played by  full,  red,  ever-laughing  lips,  and  you  have 
the  physiognomy.     But  the  dress ! 

"  Ye  powers  of  every  name  and  grace," 

aid  my  poor  endeavors  to  describe  his  toilette !  A 
high  shirt-collar,  flaring  wide  from  the  throat,  by 
the  pugnacious  manifestations  of  the  sturdy  whiskers 
aforesaid  ;  a  flashy  neckcloth,  tied  in  very  broad 
bows,  and  with  the  long  ends  laid  off  pretty  well 
towards  the  tips  of  the  shoulders ;  a  velvet  waist- 
coat, of  large  pattern  and  staring  colors,  crossed  by 
a  heavy  gold  chain,  from  which  dangled  a  gold- 
mounted  eye-glass,  broad  rufiies  to  his  shirt,  fastened 
with  huge  studs  of  three  opposing,  but  equally 
brilliant  colors  !  A  shining  Holland-linen  dust-coat 
completed  this  unique  costume. 

Presently,  some  one  at  a  distance  suddenly  attract- 
ed the  roving  eyes  of  our  hero,  and  he  began  the 
most  significant  telegraphing  with  hands  and  head, 
designed,  apparently,  to  persuade  the  other  to  come 
and  sit  by  him.  Turning,  as  if  by  accident,  I  saw  a 
young  man,  near  the  entrance  of  the  room,  shaking 


368  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

liis  head  very  positively  in  the  negative.  But  this 
was  no  quietus  to  our  neighbor,  who  half  rose  from 
his  seat. 

"  Not  room  for  the  gentleman  here,  sir,"  said  a 
major  domo,  coming  up. 

"  Yes  there  is,  too,  plenty  of  room  !  If  you  would 
just  move  a  leetle^  ma'am — so,"  pushing  at  the  chair 
of  an  elderly  woman,  who  seemed  suddenly  to 
grow  more  slender  than  ever,  and  at  the  same  time 
hitching  his  own  nearer  to  that  of  the  person  next 
him  on  the  other  side,  "that  will  do,  famously! 
ITow,  waiter,  a  plate !  I  hope  I  don't  crowd  you, 
sir  [to  the  gentleman  next  him],  we  don't  wear 
hoops  you  know !  can  keep  tight  without  them !' 
The  last,  in  a  whisper,  like  a  boatswain's  whistlo; 
upon  which  the  respectable  female,  who  illustrated 
the  mathematical  definition  of  a  pointy  bridled  and 
reddened  with  virtuous  indignation. 

Luckily  the  table  was  not  as  closely  filled  as  it 
often  is,  and  in  much  less  time  than  it  takes  me  to 
describe  the  scene,  the  triumph  of  the  youth  was 
complete,  and  a  well-dressed,  gentlemanly-looking 
man  came  forward,  seemingly  with  considerable 
reluctance. 

"  How  are  you,  Fred,  how  are  you  ?  Right  glad 
to  see  you,  'pon  my  soul — sit  down  I  When'd  you 
get  in  %    Left  all  the  folks  well  ?" 

There  was  no  avoiding  hearing  this  tide  of  ques- 
tions, poured  out  in  a  loud,  hilarious  tone,  that  rose 
over  the  subdued  murmur  of  ordinary  conversation, 
like  the  notes  of  a  bugle,  sounding  amid  the  twitter 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  369. 

ing  of  the  feathered  tenants  of  a  grove.  Apparently 
quite  unconscious  that  any  one  else  in  his  vicinity 
possessed  powers  of  hearing  and  seeing,  and  wholly 
unobservant  of  the  elevated  eye-brows  of  some  of 
his  neighbors,  and  the  significant  looks  and  ill-sup- 
pressed smiles  of  the  servants,  the  young  man  ran 
on  with  details  of  his  own  private  affairs,  interroga- 
tions respecting  those  of  his  companion,  interspersed 
with  loud  and  multiplied  directions  to  the  attendants. 
From  my  soul  I  pitied  his  victim !  Deeper  and  deeper 
grew  the  flush  of  shame  and  embarrassment  in  his 
handsome  face,  more  and  more  laconic  and  low- 
voiced  his  replies,  and  more  uneasy  his  restless 
movements  and  glances. 

By  and  by  two  huge  glasses  of  foaming  strong- 
beer  made  their  appearance.  Beau  Brummel's  cele- 
brated saying — "  A  gentleman  may  jpoH  /  but  he 
never  maUs^''  crossed  my  mind.  With  due  deference 
to  this  high  authority,  for  my  part,  I  think  a  glass  of 
London  brown-stout,  or  Scotch  ale,  a  pleasant  accom- 
paniment to  a  bit  of  cold  meat  and  bread,  when  one 
is  inclined  to  sup ;  but  taking  beer  at  dinner  is  quite 
another  affair. 

Well !  there  was  a  little  lull  for  a  time,  only  to 
be  followed  by  a  new  sensation.  One  of  the  quick, 
galvanic  movements  of  the  nondescript  overset  a  full 
bottle  of  wine,  just  as  it  was  placed  between  himself 
and  his  friend,  and  he  was  in  the  act  of  saying,  "  If 
you  don't  drink  beer,  Fred,  take  some — by  thunder 
that's  too  bad !" 

The  dark- colored  liquor  poured   over  the  table* 
10* 


370  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GriDE 

cloth,  and,  dividing  into  numerous  little  streamlets, 
diverged  in  every  direction  from  the  parent  source. 
Servants  hurried  forward  with  napkins  to  stay  the 
progress  of  the  flood,  the  gentleman  next  our  hero 
coolly  dammed  up  the  stream  that  most  alarmingly 
threatened  his  safety,  with  a  piece  of  bread,  and  the 
slender  female,  whose  slight  pretentions  to  breadth 
had  been  so  unceremoniously  ignored,  fidgeted 
uneasily  under  the  table,  as  though  apprehensive 
that  the  penetrating  powers  of  the  invading  foe 
might  be  working  in  ambush,  to  the  detriment  of 
her  light-hued  drapery.  But  the  face  of  the  young 
stranger !  It  was  positively  mottled !  His  very 
forehead,  before  smooth  and  fair,  suddenly  suggested 
the  idea  that  he  was  just  recovering  from  the  small- 
pox! 

Meantime,  our  little  party  were  quietly  pursuing 
the  even  tenor  of  their  respective  dinners.  Suddenly 
I  missed  S . 

"  What  has  become  of  the  Governor  ?"  said  I  to 
Cornelia,  in  an  under-tone. 

"A  servant  called  him  away,"  returned  she,  in  the 
same  unnoticeable  manner.  The  next  moment  I 
again  remarked  the  same  peculiar  movement  to- 
wards me  and  the  same  expression  of  countenance, 
that  had  arrested  my  attention  when  we  first  sat 
down.  A  woman's  quick  instinct  never  deceives 
her !     Apparently  unheeding,  I  listened. 

"  Dev'lish  handsome !  like  her  air ! — wouldn't  ob- 
ject to  taking  the  seat  myself,  by  George !"  caught 
ray  ear. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  371 

I  think  that  joting  man  understood  the  fixed  look 
with  which  I  regarded  him  for  the  space  of  about 
half  a  minute !     I  was  quite  sure  his  companion  did. 

By  this  time,  the  dessert  was  on  the  table. 

"  Where're  you  going,  Fred  ?  you  ain't  done  ?" 
shouted  the  Hoosier,  or  whatever  he  was. 

"I  have  an  engagement — I'll  see  you  again," 
replied  the  gentleman  thus  addressed,  springing  up, 
and  eluding  the  detaining  grasp  of  his  persecutor, 
quickly  made  good  his  escape. 

No  sooner  were  we  seated  in  one  of  the  parlors, 
than  Ida's  pent-up  merriment  burst  forth. 

"  Did  you  hear  what  that  poor  young  man  said, 
when  the  other  commenced  reading  the  bill  of  fare, 
uncle,"  said  she,  "just  before  he  darted  out  of  the 
room  ?" 

"  What,  in  particular,  do  you  refer  to,  my  dear  ? 
I  heard  a  great  deal  more  than  I  wished." 

"  O,  I  mean  when  the  speaking-trumpet^  as  Go- 
vernor S called  him,  shouted  out — ^fricandeau 

de  veau! — What's  he,  Fred?  Do  tell  a  fellow.' 
He  was  picking  his  teeth  at  the  time,  with  a  large 
goose-quill,  with  all  the  feathers  on  !" 

"Well,  what  was  the  answer  ?" 

"  The  poor  martyr  was,  by  that  time,  reduced  to 
the  calmness  of  despair ^^"^  replied  your  cousin,  laugh- 
ing ;  "  he  answered,  with  a  meaning  air,  I  thought, 
'  A  calfs  head  ! — one  of  the  entrees  P  Corne,  I  hope 
you  did  not  lose  the  full  effect  of  the  great  green 
and  orange-colored  peaches  sprinkled  over  the  vest 
of  your   admirer.      Love  at  first  sight,  my  dear ! 


3T2  TIIE   AMEKICAlf   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

Kever  saw  a  more  unmistakable  smitation !  Wliat  a 
triumph !  Your  first  conquest  since  your  arrival  in 
New  York,  I  believe,  Miss  Lunettes !"  lisping  affect- 
edly, and  bowing  with  mock  deference. 

"  Ida,  you'll  be  overheard !  I'm  ashamed  of  you," 
returned  the  stately  Cornelia,  with  an  air  of  offended 
propriety. 

"  It  will  never  do,  Puss,"  said  I ;  "  Come  is  right. 
But,  Corne,  what  happened  the  senator  ?" 

"  How  courteous  he  is !"  exclaimed  the  young 
lady,  with  sudden  enthusiasm.  "A  servant  came 
and  whispered  to  him — 'Miss  Lunettes,'  said  he, 
turning  to  me, '  the  only  man  in  the  world  who  could 
tempt  me  from  your  side — ^my  best  friend — asks  for 
me  on  important  business.  Will  you  permit  me  to 
leave  you,  after  requesting  the  honor  of  attending 
you  V  Of  course,  I  assented.  *  Make  my  apologies 
to  Miss  Ida  and  Colonel  Lunettes,'  said  he,  as  we 
shook  hands,  '  1  am  very  unfortunate.' " 

"  How  quietly  he  slipped  away,"  said  Ida ;  "  I 
knew  nothing  of  it,  until  he  was  gone." 

"  Well-bred  people  are  always  quiet,"  remarked 
the  elder  sister,  significantly. 

"  Oh,  dear  me !"  retorted  Ida,  coloring.  "  Well, 
it's  too  much  to  expect  of  any  one,  not  to  laugh  at 
such  a  nondescript  specimen  of  humanity  as  that 
young  man." 

The  next  morning,  before  I  left  my  room,  a  card 
was  brought  to  me,  inscribed  with  the  name  of 
"  Frederick  H.  AUoway,"  and  inclosed  witli  the  fol- 
lowing note : 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  373 


"The  son  of  one  of  Colonel  Lunettes'  old  friends 
begs  leave  to  claim  the  honor  of  his  acquaintance, 
and  will  do  himself  the  pleasure  to  pay  his  respects, 
at  any  hour,  this  morning,  that  will  be  most  agreea- 
ble to  Colonel  Lunettes. 

'  *'  Metropolitan  Hotels 

"  Wednesday  Morn.^"* 

A  half-revived  remembrance  of  a  face  once  fami- 
liar, had  haunted  me  at  the  dinner  table  the  day 
before,  whenever'  I  chanced  to  catch  the  eye  of  the 
victimized  youtli  I  have  alluded  to.  I  was,  there- 
fore, not  unprepared  to  find  him  identical  with  the 
author  of  this  note. 

A  certain  constraint  was  evinced  by  his  manner, 
when  the  first  complimentary  phrases  were  over. 
At  length  his  embarrassment  found  expression. 

"  I  am  not  sure.  Colonel  Lunettes,"  said  he,  "  that 
I  should  have  ventured  to  intrude  upon  you  this 
morning — much  as  I  desired  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  a  gentlemen  of  whom  I  have  so  frequently 
heard  my  father  speak — had  I  not  wished  to  make 
an  apology,  or  at  least  an  explanation  " 

He  hesitated,  and  the  mottled  color  of  the  day  be- 
fore mantled  over  his  ingenuous  face.  I  hastened  to 
say  something  polite. 

"  You  are  very  good,  sir — ^really — scandalously  as 
that  young  fellow  behaved — he  is  not  without 
redeeming  qualities.  My  acquaintance  with  him  ia 
slight,  and  entirely  accidental.     One  of  our  success* 


374  THE  AMERICAN  GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

ful  "Western  speculators,  and  a  very  good-hearted  fel 
low — ^but  sadly  in  need  of  polisli." 

"  So  I  perceived,"  returned  I,  gravely,  "  nor  is 
that  all.  One  can  pardon  igno7'ance  mucli  more 
readily  than  invpudence.'^^ 

"  Yery  true,  sir.  I  only  hope  that  I  was  not  so  un- 
fortunate as  to  incur  your  displeasure.  I — permit  me 
to  express  the  hope  that  the  ladies  of  your  party  did 
not  regard  me  as  in  the  most  remote  way  implica- 
ted in  an  intention  to  annoy  them,"  and  his  voice 
actually  trembled  with  manly  earnestness. 

"  By  no  means,  my  dear  young  friend  ;  by  no 
means.  I  assure  you,  on  the  contrary,  that  you 
had  our  sympathy  in  your  distress — comic  as  it 
was." 

The  intense  ludicrousness  of  the  affair  now  seemed, 
for  the  first  time,  to  take  full  possession  of  the  per- 
ceptive faculties  of  my  new  acquaintance. 

When  our  mutual  merriment  had  in  some  degree 
subsided,  I  invited  him  to  dine  with  us,  unless  he 
preferred  to  resume  his  seat  of  the  day  before. 

"  Heaven  forbid !"  exclaimed  he,  with  great 
vivacity ;  "  I  should  have  left  this  house  to-day, 
if  that  fellow  had  not — he  is  gone,  I  am  rejoiced  to 
say." 

It  was  arranged  that  the  "  son  of  my  old  friend,"  as 
he  indeed  was,  should  meet  me  in  the  drawing-room 
a  few  moments  before  dinner,  and  be  presented  to 
your  cousins.     So  we  parted. 

Almost  the  first  person  I  saw  as  I  was  entering  the 
public  drawing-room,  to  join  my  nieces,  before  din- 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  376 

ner,  on  that  day,  was  young  Alio  way.  He  was  evi- 
dently awaiting  me,  and,  upon  my  recognizing  him 
by  a  bow,  at  once  advanced. 

"You  are  punctual,  I  see,  Mr.  AUoway,"  said  I, 
as  we  seated  ourselves ;  "a  very  good  trait,  in  a 
young  man !" 

"  I  fear,  sir,  there  is  little  merit  in  being  punctual 
with  such  a  reward  in  anticipation,"  replied  he, 
laughing  pleasantly,  and  bowing  to  the  ladies,  as  he 
spoke. 

Our  new  acquaintance,  very  properly,  offered  his 
arm  to  the  younger  sister,  and  I,  of  course,  preceded 
them  with  the  elder,  and  though,  when  we  were  seated 
together,  he  was  quite  too  well-bred  to  confine  either 
his  attentions  or  his  conversation  to  Ida,  I  must  say 
that  I  have  not  often  seen  two  young  people  become 
more  readily  at  ease  in  each  other's  society  than  my 
lively  favorite,  and  the  "son  of  my  old  friend." 
They  seemed  to  find  each  other  out  by  intuition, 
and  talked  together  in  the  most  animated  manner 
permitted  by  their  unvarying  regard  for  decorum. 
Their  nearest  neighbors  were  not  disturbed  by  their 
mirthfulness,  nor  could  persons  seated  opposite  them 
hear  their  conversation,  and  yet  AUoway  was  evi- 
dently fast  being  remunerated  for  the  chagrin  and 
embarrassment  of  his  previous  dinner. 

*'  Uncle  Hal,"  said  Cornelia,  leaning  towards  me, 
as  we  sat  together  on  a  sofa,  after  leaving  the  table, 
glancing  round  to  be  sure  that  Ida  heard  her, 
"  don't  you  think  Minnesota  gentlemen,  generally ^ 
must  be  rather  susceptible  ?" 


876 


Her  sister,  turning 

"  The  trembling  lustre  of  her  dewy  eyes  " 

upon  the  quizzical  speaker,  was  interrupted  in  the 
spirited  rejoinder  she  evidently  meditated,  by  the 
return  of  Alloway,  who  had  been  up  to  his  room  for 
a  pencil-sketch  of  the  Falls  of  Minnehaha  (between 
St.  Paul's  and  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  you  know) 
which  he  told  us  he  had  made  on  the  spot,  a  few 
days  before  leaving  his  "Western  home. 

"How  beautiful  it  must  be  there  1"  exclaimed  Ida, 
delightedly.  "  And  you  are  taking  this  to  your  moth- 
er !  It  reminds  me  of  a  '  Panorama  of  the  "Western 
"Wilds,'  I  think  it  was  called,  to  which  papa  took  us 
in  New  York,  last  spring.  I  don't  know  when  I  saw 
anythmg  so  lovely !  I  had  no  just  conception  before 
of  the  magnificence  and  variety  of  the  scenery  of  tho 
far-West." 

"  "Why,  my  dear,"  said  I  quietly,  just  for  my  own 
amusement,  and  to  watch  the  effect  upon  all  parties, 
"you  seem  so  charmed  with  these  sketches  of  the 
"West,  that  I  think  I  must  try  and  show  you  the  origi- 
nals by-and-by.  How  would  you  like  to  go  with  me 
to  look  after  my  "Western  investments  next  month  ?" 

"  Just  like  uncle  Hal !"  I  hear  more  than  one  of 
you  crying.  "  He  always  plays  the  mischief  among 
the  young  folks !"  So,  to  punish  your  impertinence, 
I  shall  say  nothing  in  particular,  of  the  sudden  light 
that  shone  in  the  fine  eyes  of  our  new  friend,  nor  of 
the  enthusiasm  with  which  Ida  clapped  her  hands 
and  bravoed  my  proposition.     Still  more,  I  am   by 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  377 

no  means  sure  that  I  shall  feel  justified  in  telling  you 
what  came  of  all  this  in  the  future. 

After  a  while,  some  other  young  men  came  to 
speak  to  the  girls,  and  AUoway,  modestly  withdraw- 
ing, lingered  near  me,  as  if  wishing  to  address  me. 
A  lady  was  saying  something  to  me  at  the  moment. 
When  she  had  finished  speaking,  I  turned  to  my 
young  friend. 

"  Colonel  Lnnettes,"  said  he,  in  the  most  polite  and 
respectful  manner,  "  the  ladies  inform  me  that  they 
are  to  go  with  you  to  see  some  pictures,  in  the  morn- 
ing.    Will  you  permit  me  to  attend  them  ?" 

Receiving  my  assent,  he  added,  "  My  present 
mode  of  life  affords  few  facilities  for  the  inspection 
of  works  of  Art ;  and  I  am  so  mere  a  tyro,  too,  that 
I  shall  be  happy  to  have  the  benefit  of  your  cultiva- 
ted taste." 

"I  dare  say  Mr.  AUoway  could  instruct  us  all," 
interposed  Ida,  "that  is,  sister  and  me.  Uncle 
Lunettes  has  spent  so  many  years  abroad,  that  he  is, 
of  course,  quite  aufait  in  all  such  things." 

"  At  what  hour  do  you  propose  going,  ladies  ?" 
inquired  AUoway. 

Twelve  o'clock  was  fixed  upon. 

"I  shall  have  great  pleasure  in  again  meeting 
you  all  at  that  time,"  said  AUoway,  and,  as  he 
shook  hands  with  me,  he  added,  with  a  significant 
smile,  "  I  will  endeavor  to  be  quite  jpunctual^ 
Colonel!" 

"Who  is  that  fiue-looking  young  man,  Colonel 


378  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn'q   GIJIDE 

Lunettes  ?"  asked  the  lady  with  whom  I  had  been 
conversing,  as  I  reseated  myself  at  her  side.  "  His 
manners  are  remarkably  easy  and  graceful  for  so 
young  a  person.  What  a  contrast  he  is  to  young  J — •, 
there,  who,  with  all  the  advantages  of  education, 
foreign  travel,  and  good  society,  is,  and  always  will 
be,  a  clown  !  Just  look  at  him,  now,  talking  to  those 
girls !  Sitting,  of  course^  upon  two  legs  of  his  chair, 
and  picking  his  teeth  with  a  pen-knife !" 

"What  would  be  the  consequence,"  said  I,  "if 
he  should  lose  his  balance  and  fall  backward, 
with  his  mouth  open  in  that  way,  and  his  knife  held 
by  the  tip  end  of  the  handle,  poised  upon  hia 
teeth?" 

"  It  looks  really  dangerous,  don't  it,"  commented 
the  same  slender  female,  whose  slight  manifestations 
had  interested  me,  at  dinner,  the  day  before — "  but  I 
suppose  he  is  so  used  to  it  that " 

A  sudden  movement  arrested  further  philosophical 
speculation,  on  the  part  of  this  profound  observer  of 
life  and  manners,  and  a  young  lady  whose  flounces 
had  been  sadly  torn  by  the  very  chair  upon  the 
occupant  of  which  she  was  commenting,  passed  hur- 
riedly out  of  the  room,  with  her  disordered  dress 
gathered  up  in  both  hands. 

The  next  morning,  some  time  before  the  hour 
appointed  for  our  visit  to  the  Dusseldoif  Gallery,  a 
servant  brought  me  the  following  note : 

"Mr.  Alio  way  regrets  extremely  that  an  unex- 
pected, but  imperative,  engagement,  deprives  him 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  379 

of  the  anticipated  pleasure  of  accompanying  the 
Misses  and  Colonel  Lunettes  this  morning. 

"Will  Colonel  Lunettes  oblige  Mr.  Alloway  by 
making  his  compliments  acceptable  to  the  Misses 
Lunettes,  together  with  the  most  sincere  expressions 
of  his  disappointment  ? 

"Metropolitan  Hotel, 

"  Thursday  Morning?^ 

"I  am  SO  sorry!"  exclaimed  Ida,  when  informed 
of  this.  "  Uncle  Hal  is  always  beau  enough,  but  the 
more  the  merrier,  you  know,  dear  uncle,"  added  she, 
linking  her  arm  in  mine,  and  looking  artlessly  up 
into  my  face. 

"  You  are  quite  right,  my  dear,"  said  I.  "  I  like 
your  frankness,  and  I  am  sorry  to  lose  Alloway  my- 
self" 

As  I  was  going  out  of  the  "  Ladies'  Entrance"  with 
your  cousins,  I  perceived  my  young  friend  support- 
ing the  steps  of  a  pale,  emaciated  gentleman,  who 
coughed  violently,  and  walked  with  difficulty,  even 
from  the  carriage  to  the  door,  though  sustained  on 
the  other  side  also  by  an  elderly  lady.  I  drew 
the  girls  aside,  that  they  might  pass  uninterrupt- 
edly. 

"  I  hope  you  are  well  this  morning,  ladies,"  said 
Alloway,  raising  his  hat,  as  he  caught  sight  of  us, 
"  Good  morning.  Colonel  Lunettes." 


"Good  morning,  again,  ladies!"  said  a  cheerful, 
but  subdued  voice  behind  us,  as  the  girls  and  I  were 


880 

seated  together,  examining  tlie  merry  "  Wine-tasters  ^ 
of  the  Gallery,  after  having  devoted  some  time  to 
subjects  of  a  more  elevated  moral  tone. 

We  turned  our  heads  simultaneously.  "  Good 
morning,  sir,"  said  Alloway,  for  it  was  he ;  "  with 
your  leave,  I  will  join  you  now." 

Your  cousins  made  room  for  him  between  them. 
"  I  am  so  happy  not  wholly  to  lose  this,"  said  he, 
bowing  to  each  of  the  ladies.  "  I  feared  I  could  not 
meet  you  here  even  as  early  as  this." 

"  We  would  have  waited  for  you,"  interposed  Ida ; 
"why  didn't  you  tell  us?" 

"  I  did  not  think  for  a  moment  of  taking  such  a 
liberty,"  returned  the  young  man.  "  It  would,  per- 
haps, have  interfered  with  your  other  engagements. 
Indeed,  I  scarcely  hoped  to  find  you  here,  but  could 
not  deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  coming  in  search  of 
you." 

"Which  is  your  favorite  picture  here,  Miss  Lu- 
nettes ?"  I  heard  Alloway  ask  presently. 

"Come  and  see,"  returned  she,  and,  rising,  she 
added,  "  come,  sister — uncle,  we  will  return,  do  not 
disturb  yourself." 

Loitering  along  toward  them,  a  while  after,  1  re- 
marked, as  I  approached,  the  expressive  faces  of  the 
group,  and  their  graceful  attitudes,  as  they  discussed 
Cornelia's  "  favorite,"  and  reflected  how  much  the 
poetry  and  beauty  that  environ  youth,  when  refined 
by  nature  and  polished  by  education,  surpass  tho 
liighest  achievements  of  art. 

"  What  innocence  in  that  face  I    What  dewy  soft- 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  381 

ness  in  the  steadfast  eyes !"  exclaimed  Cornelia. 
"  The  very  shoes  have  an  appropriate  expression ! 
dear  little  bird !  one  can't  help  loving  her,  and  want- 
ing to  know  all  about  her." 

"  If  she  were  not  deaf  and  dumb,"  said  her  cava- 
lier, "  I  am  sure  she  would  rise  and  make  a  courtesy 
to  such  flattering  admirers  I  I  am  getting  dreadfully 
jealous  of  her!" 

"  You  needn't  be,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  re- 
torted Ida ;  "  for  my  part,  I  don't  like  that  brown 
stuflf  dress !  She  isn't  fixed  up  a,  bit,  as  children 
always  are,  when  they  sit  for  their  portraits."  And 
she  tripped  away  to  take  another  look  at  her  especial 
admiration — ^the  ^^  Peasants  Returning  from  the 
Harvest-field^'*  which  is,  indeed,  a  gem. 

"  What  does  Miss  Ida  mean  ?"  inquired  Alloway, 
smilingly,  of  her  sister. 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  returned  Cornelia, 
"  she  is  full  of  sentiment,  which  she  always  endeavors 
to  hide." 

"With  your  permission  I  will  go  and  ask  her," 
Baid  the  admirer  of  the  truant,  and  bowing  politely 
to  us  both,  he  followed  Ida. 

I  will  just  add,  here,  that  I  learned  afterwards,  ac- 
cidentally, and  not  even  remotely  through  him,  that 
the  persons  with  whom  we  met  Alloway  that  morn- 
ing, were  the  mother  and  brother  of  that  scapegrace 
we  first  saw  him  with.  They  had  come  to  New 
York  with  the  understanding  that  he  would  meet 
them  there,  at  an  appointed  time,  and  assist  in  the 
care  required  by  his  dying  relative ;  but  this  prorais- 


382  THE  AMEEICAN   GENTLEMAN 's   GUIDE 

ing  youth  had  suddenly  left  the  city,  without  leaviug 
any  clue  to  his  proceedings,  probably,  in  pursuit  of 
Bome  pretty  face,  which,  like  Cornelia's,  happened 
to  attract  his  attention.  Luckily,  the  poor  mother 
learned  that  Alloway,  who  was  slightly  known  to 
her,  was  in  the  city,  and  appealed  to  him  for  assist- 
ance— with  what  success  may  be  inferred  from  the 
little  incident  I  have  narrated. 


It  has  always  been  a  matter  of  marvel,  with  the 
learned  in  such  matters,  how  Sir  Walter  Scott  accom- 
plished such  Herculean  literary  labors  in  conjunc- 
tion with  the  discharge  of  so  many  public  and  social 
duties.  As  he  himself  used  to  say,  he  long  had  a 
"  troop  of  dragoons  galloping  through  his  head,"  to 
which,  as  their  commanding  officer,  he  devoted 
much  attention;  he  was  sheriff  of  the  county — (in 
the  discharge  of  the  duties  of  this  office,  by  the  way, 
he  used  to  march  through  the  streets  of  the  shire- 
town,  during  court  term,  arrayed  in  a  gown  and  bag 
wig,  at  the  head  of  his  j[)osse  comitatus^  greatly  to 
his  own  amusement  and  that  of  his  friends) — and 
remarkable  for  the  most  urbane  and  diffusive  hospi- 
tality. After  he  ceased  to  be  the  Greai  Unknown, 
or  rather,  after  he  was  identified  with  that  celebrity, 
Abbotsford  became  the  resort  of  innumerable  visi- 
tors, attracted  thither  by  curiosity,  interest,  or  friend- 
ship.   Not  only  his  beautiful  residence,  but  the  nu- 


TO  POLITEJfESS   AKD   FASHION.  383 

merons  points  of  sceneiy  and  the  superb  ruins  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Abbotsford,  which  had  been  ren- 
dered classic  by  his  magic  pen,  were  to  be  inspected 
by  these  guests,  and  Scott  always  seemed  to  have 
time  for  a  gallop  among  the  hills,  an  excursion  to 
Dryburgh  and  Melrose  Abbey,  a  pilgrimage  along 
the  banks  of  the  romantic  river  he  has  helped  to 
immortalize,  or  a  lively  chat  with  the  ladies  after 
dinner.  And  he  never  had  that  air  of  pre-occupa- 
tion  that  so  often  characterizes  literary  men,  in  gene- 
ral society.  He  took  part  in  the  most  genial  and 
hearty  manner,  in  the  conversation  of  the  moment, 
bringing  his  full  quota  to  the  common  stock  of  mirth, 
anecdote  and  jest.  I  can  almost  see  him,  as  I  write, 
sitting  in  the  midst  of  a  social  circle,  in  his  draw- 
ing-room, trotting  the  curly-pated  little  son  of  Mrs. 
Hemans,  who  was  at  Abbotsford  on  a  visit,  with 
her  sister  and  this  child,  upon  his  strong  knee,  and 
singing, 

"  Charley  my  darling,  my  darling,  Charley  my  darling,** 

at  intervals,  for  the  amusement  of  the  little  fellow. 
I  chanced,  too,  to  accompany  him,  when  he  attended 
the  poetess  to  her  post-chaise,  on  the  morning  of  her 
departure,  and  had  occasion  to  remark  his  courteous 
hospitality  to  the  last.  "  There  are  some  pei*sons," 
said  he,  with  his  cordial  smile,  as  he  offered  his  hand 
at  parting,  "  whom  one  earnestly  desires  to  meet 
again.  You,  madam,  are  one  of  those."  But  I  am 
quite  forgetting  the  object  that  induced  my  recur* 
rence  to  these  well-remembered  scenes. 


384  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN'S   GUIDE 

In  answer  to  some  leading  remark  of  mine,  regard- 
ing the  wonderful  versatility  of  his  father-in-law, 
addressed  to  Mr.  Lockhart,  as  we  stood  together  con 
templating  the  ivy-mantled  walls  of  Dryburgh,  he 
informed  me  of  the  secret  of  his  extraordinary 
achievements  with  the  pen  :  "  When  you  meet  him 
at  breakfast,"  said  Mr.  Lockhart,  "  he  has  already, 
as  he  expresses  it,  'broken  the  neck  of  the  day's 
work ' — he  writes  in  the  morning.  Eschewing  the 
indulgences  of  late  rising  and  slippered  ease  (at  the 
last  he  rails  incontinentl}'),  he  is  up  with  the  lark — 
by  half  past  four  or  five,  dresses  as  you  see  him  at 
a  later  hour,  in  out-door  costume,  visits  the  stables, 
and  then  sets  himself  resolutely  to  work.  By  nine 
o'clock,  when  he  joins  us,  he  has  accomplished  the 
labors  of  a  day,  almost." 

"  His  correspondence  alone  must  occupy  an  im- 
mense deal  of  time,"  said  I. 

"And  yet,"  returned  my  companion,  "  Sir  Walter 
makes  it  a  rule  to  answer  every  letter  on  the  day  of 
its  reception.  It  must  be  an  urgent  cause  that  inter- 
feres with  this  habit.  And  I  am  often  astonished  at 
the  length  and  careful  composition  of  his  replies  to 
the  queries  of  literary  correspondents,  as  well  as  to 
his  letters  of  friendship." 

"  One  would  suppose  his  health  must  be  impaired 
by  such  severe  mental  labor,"  I  answered. 

"  His  cheerful  temper,  and  his  power  to  leave  care 
'behind  him  in  his  study,  are  a  great  assistance  to 
him,"  replied  Mr.  Lockhart,  moving  towards  our 
horses,  as  he  spoke — "  but  here,"  he  added,  smilingly, 


TO  POLITENESS  AND   FASHION.  385 

laying  his  hand  on  his  saddle,  "  here  is  his  grand 
preservative.  It  must  be  foul  weather,  indeed,  even 
for  our  Northern  land  of  mists  and  clouds,  that  keeps 
him  from  his  daily  allowance  of  fresh  airP 

"  Sir  Walter  is  an  accomplished  horseman,  I  ob- 
serve," said  I,  as  we  resumed  our  ride. 

"  You  may  well  say  that !"  exclaimed  his  son-in- 
law,  laughing.  "  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  him  at 
the  head  of  his  troop  of  horse,  charging  an  imagi- 
nary foe.  Only  the  other  day,  his  favorite  steed 
broke  the  arm  of  a  groom  who  attempted  to  mount 
him ;  and  yet,  in  Sir  Walter's  hands,  he  is  as  docile 
as  need  be.  There  seems  to  be  some  secret  under- 
standing between  him  and  his  horses  and  dogs. 
This  very  horse,  though  he  will  never  permit  another 
man  to  mount  him,  seems  to  obey  his  master's  be- 
hests with  real  pride  as  well  as  pleasure.  I  believe 
he  would  kneel  to  receive  him  on  his  back,  were  he 
bidden  to  do  so." 


Dipping  into  an  instructive  and  pleasant,  though 
no  longer  new  book,*  the  other  day,  I  came  across 
the  following  passage:  "Brougham  has  recorded 
that  the  peroration  of  his  speech  in  the  Queen's 
case" — his  celebrated  defence  of  Queen  Caroline 
against  her  beastly  husband — "  was  written  no  less 
than  ten  times  before  he  thought  it  fit  for  so  august 
an  occasion.  The  same  is  .probably  true  of  similar 
passages  in  Webster's  speeches ;  it  is  known  to  bo 

•  Sketches  of  Reform  and  Reformers,— by  H,  B.  Stanton. 
IT 


386 


80  of  Burke's."  What  do  you  think  of  such  examples 
of  industry  and  perseverance  as  these,  young  gentle- 
men? 


*^  Step  in,  ma'am,  step  in,  if  you  please,"  said  our 
Jehu,  opening  the  door  of  a  stage-coach,  in  which  I 
was  making  a  journey  through  a  region  not  then 
penetrated  by  modern  improvements,  "  would  you 
like  the  back  seat  ?"  Beside  him  stood  a  slightly- 
formed,  delicate-looking  girl,  in  a  hesitating  atti- 
tude. 

"  I  cannot  ride  backwards  without  being  ill,"  said 
she,  timidly,  "  and  I — I  shall  be  sorry  to  disturb  any 
one,  but  I  would  like  to  sit  by  a  window." 

A  young  man  who  was  sitting  on  the  middle  seat 
with  me  immediately  alighted,  to  make  room  for  the 
more  convenient  entrance  of  the  stranger,  and,  as  he 
did  so,  the  driver  said  decidedly — "  Shall  be  obliged 
to  ask  the  gentlemen  on  the  back  seat  to  accommo- 
date the  lady."  Alow-browed,  surly-looking  young 
fellow,  who  sat  nearest  the  door  of  the  vehicle,  on 
the  seat  designated,  doggedly  kept  his  place,  mutter- 
ing something  about  having  th^iirst  claim,  "  first 
come,  first  served,"  etc.  Seeing  how  matters  stood, 
a  good-natured,  farmer-like  looking  old  man,  who 
occupied  the  other  end  of  the  seat,  called  out 
cheerily,  "The  young  woman  is  welcome  to  my 
place,  if  I  can  only  get  out  of  it!"  and  he  began 
at  once  to  suit  the  action  to  the  word. 

By  this  time  the  before  pale  face  of  the  young 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  3S7 

girl  was  painfully  flushed,  and  she  said,  in  a  low, 
deprecating  tone,  "I  am  very  sorry  to  make  so 
much  trouble." 

**!N"o  trouble  at  all,  ma'am — none  at  all!  Just 
reach  me  your  hand  and  I'll  help  you  up — ^that's 
it  I" 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  sir — very  much  !  I 
hope  you  will  find  a  good  seat  for  yourself,"  said 
the  recipient  of  his  kindness,  gently. 

"  No  doubt  of  it  I"  returned  he  of  the  cheery  voice. 
"  I  ain't  at  all  sorry  to  change  a  little — them  back 
seat's  plaguy  cramped  up !  They  say,"  added  he, 
settling  himself  next  the  boot,  "  that  the  front  seat's 
the  easiest  of  all.  One  thing,  there's  more  room 
[stretching  his  legs  with  an  air  of  infinite  relief 
between  those  of  his  opposite  neighbors],  a  duced 
Bight!" 

"  Take  your  fare,  gem'men,"  cried  a  bustling  per- 
sonage, at  this  moment. 

"What  is  the  fare  from  here  to  O ?"  inquired 

the  stationary  biped  in  the  corner  behind  me. 

"  Six  shillings,  York  money,"  was  the  ready  re- 
sponse. 

"  Six  shillings  !"  growled  the  other ;  "  seems  to  me 
there's  great  extortion  all  'long  this  road.  Yesterday 
I  paid  out  three  dollars,  hard  money — twelve  shil- 
lin'  for  lodgin',  supper,  and  breakfast,  back  here 
toG !" 

"  Take  your  fare  nozo,  sir,"  interrupted  the  bust- 
ling little  man  at  the  door,  stepping  upon  the  wheel, 
in  sublime  indifference  to  the  muttered  anathemas, 


388 


half  addressed  to  him.  "What  name,  sir?" — prepar- 
ing to  write  on  the  "  way-bill "— "  always^  sir !  it  is 
rulable — always  put  down  the  name." 

The  low  voice  of  the  lady,  when  she  was  reached, 
in  due  order,  was  almost  lost  in  the  grumbling  kept 
up  by  the  agreeable  occupant  of  the  corner  seat. 
The  most  amusing  commingling  of  opposite  sounds 
reached  my  ears,  somewhat  like  the  soft  tones  of  a 
distant  flute,  and  the  growling — not  loud,  but  deep — 
of  a  hungry  mastiff.  "  Julia  Peters  " — "  takes  off  the 
silver,  by  thunder!" — "Is  my  band-box  put  on?" 
here  a  chinking,  as  of  money  counted,  and  then  a  hur- 
ried fumbling  appeared  to  take  place  in  the  "  deep- 
est depths"  of  various  pockets.  "How  soon  will 
we  be  there,"  in  silvery  murmurs — "  By  George !  I 
swear  I  b'lieve  I  lost  two  shillin' !" — "  Before  dark !" 
chimed  in  the  flute-notes.  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  it !" 
"  I'll  be  hanged  if  any  one  shall  come  it  over  me !" 
surged  over  the  musical  ripple.  "  When  you  stop  at 
my  brother-in-law's,"  concluded  the  softer  voice,  in 
this  unique  duet. 

Having  been  sometime  on  the  wing,  I  fell  into  a 
doze,  as  we  proceeded.  As  I  roused  myself,  at 
length,  the  young  man  who  had  alighted  to  make 
room  for  the  entrance  of  Miss  Peters,  whispered, 
"That  young  lady  seems  very  ill— what  can  we 
do  for  her  relief?"  A  moment's  attention  convinced 
me  that  the  poor  thing  was  horribly  stage-sich 
When  she  appeared  to  rally  a  little,  I  turned  round 
to  her,  and  said,  that  I  trusted  she  would  allow  me  to 
render  her  any  service  in  my  power.     Forcing  a 


TO   POIJTENESS   AND  FASHION.  389 

smile,  she  thanked  me,  and  replied  that  she  would 
soon  be  better  she  thought,  adding,  in  a  still  lower 
tone,  that  the  smell  of  tobacco  always  affected  her 
very  sensibly.  This  last  remark  was  at  the  time 
unintelligible  to  me,  but  I  afterwards  learned  that  the 
animal  on  the  same  seat  with  her  had  regaled  him- 
self upon  the  vilest  of  cigars  while  I  was  napping, 
and  that  the  only  attempt  at  an  apology  he  had 
offered  was  a  mumbled  remark  that,  "  as  the  wind 
blew  the  smoke  out  of  the  stage,  he  s'posed  no  one 
hadn't  no  objections  I" 

Despite  the  hope  expressed  by  my  suffering  neigh- 
bor, she  did  not  get  better,  but  continued  to  endure 
a  most  exhausting  ordeal.  Every  decent  man  in  the 
coach  seemed  to  sympathize  with  her,  the  rather 
that  she  so  evidently  tried  to  make  the  best  of  it, 
and  to  avoid  annoying  others.  Every  one  had  a 
different  remedy  to  suggest,  but,  unfortunately,  hone 
of  them  available,  as  there  was  no  stopping  place 
near.  Though  a  somewhat  experienced  traveller,  my 
ingenuity  could,  until  we  should  stop,  effect  no  more 
than  disposing  my  large  woollen  shawl  so  as  to  aid  in 
supporting  the  weary  head  of  the  poor  child. 

As  soon  as  we  reached  the  next  place  for  changing 
horses,  I  sprang  out,  in  common  with  the  other  pas- 
sengers, and,  inquiring  for  the  nearest  druggist,  has- 
tened to  procure  a  little  reliable  brandy. 

Having  previously  arranged  a  change  of  seats  with 
the  harmless  stripling  who  had  thus  far  occupied 
the  middle  back  seat,  I  entered  the  stage,  and 
quietly  told  the  young  lady  that,  as  there  was  no  on© 


300 


of  her  own  sex  aboard,  I  should  claim  the  privilege 
of  age,  and  prescribe  for  her,  if  she  would  permit 
me. 

"  This  is  not  a  pleasant  dose,  I  must  warn  you," 
said  I,  offering  her  a  single  tea^oonful  of  clear 
brandy^  "  but  I  can  safely  promise  you  relief,  if  you 
will  swallow  it;  this  is  a  nice,  clean  glass,  too,"  X 
added,  smilingly,  for  I  well  knew  how  much  that  as- 
surance would  encourage  my  patient. 

"I  do  not  know  how  to  thank  you  sufficiently, 
sir,"  said  the  young  lady,  striving  to  speak  cheerfully, 
as  she  attempted  to  raise  her  head.  Taking  the 
tumbler,  with  a  trembling  hand,  she  bravely  swal- 
lowed my  prescription.  I  must  own  she  gasped  a 
little  afterwards,  but  I  could  not  allow  her  the  relief 
of  water,  without  nullifying  the  proper  effect,  so  I 
assisted  her  in  removing  her  bonnet  (which  the  good- 
natured  farmer,  who  had  re-entered  the  coach  with 
me,  carefully  pinned  upon  the  lining  of  the  vehicle, 
where  it  would  safely  swing),  and  in  enveloping 
her  head  in  her  veil,  adjusting  her  shawl  comfort- 
ably about  her,  and  wrapping  my  own  about  her 
feet. 

"  K I  become  your  physician,"  said  I,  as  I  stooped 
to  make  the  latter  process  more  effectual,  "  you  must 
allow  me  the  right  to  do  as  I  think  best." 

"I  shall  be  only  too  much  obliged  by  your 
kindness,  sir,"  returned  she.  "All  I  fear  is,  that 
you  will  give  yourself  unnecessary  trouble  on  my 
account." 

"  The  gentleman  don't  seem  to  think  it's  no  trou- 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  3^1 

ble,"  interposed  the  old  farmer,  "'taint  never  no 
trouble  to  good-hearted  folks  to  help  a  fellow-cretur 
in  distress !  I  wish  my  wife  was  here ;  she  knows  a 
great  sight  better  than  I  do,  how  to  take  care  o'  sick 
folks." 

"I  am  sm-e,"  replied  tlie  invalid,  "if  kindness 
could  make  people  well,  I  should  be  restored.  I 
feel  myself  greatly  indebted  to  you,  gentlemen." 

The  slight  color  called  to  her  cheek  by  the  gen- 
idne  feeling  with  which  she  uttered  these  words,  was 
by  no  means  decreased,  as  she  gracefully  accepted 
the  offerings  of  the  youth  who  had  first  called  my 
attention  to  her  indisposition.  Coming  up  to  the 
side  of  the  stage,  near  her,  he  expressed  the  hope 
that  she  was  feeling  better,  and,  saying  that  he  had 
known  sea-sickness  relieved  by  lemon-juice,  presented 
a  fine,  fresh  lemon,  and  a  superb  carnation-pink,  and 
quickly  withdrew. 

Mr.  Benton^-that  I  heard  him  tell  the  way-bill- 
man  was  his  name — lost  something  in  not  hearing 
and  seeing  all  I  did  of  the  pleasure  he  bestowed  by 
his  gifts  ;  but  he  had  his  reward,  as  he  re-seated  him- 
self near  us. 

"  You  did  not  give  me  an  opportunity  to  thank 
you  for  your  politeness,  sir,"  the  lady  hastened  to 
say,  with  a  pretty,  half-shrinking  manner,  "I  am 
so  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  flower !  it  is  so  spicy 
and  refreshing,  and  so  very  beautiful." 

"A  very  indifferent  apology  for  a  bouquet,"  re* 
turned  the  gentleman,  "  all  I  could  find,  however.    I 


392  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   QVIDK 

am  very  happy  if  it  affords  you  the  slightest  gratifi- 
cation." 

1^0  sooner  were  we  fairly  on  our  way  again,  than 
I  insisted  upon  supporting  the  head  of  my  fair  pa- 
tient upon  my  shoulder,  assuring  her  that  ten  min- 
utes' sleep  would  complete  tlie  cure  already  begun 
in  her  case.  She  blushed,  and  hesitated  a  little, 
upon  the  plea  that  she  would  tire  me. 

"Allow  me  to  be  the  judge  of  that,"  I  answered, 
with.some  gravity,  "  and  permit  the  freedom  of  an 
old  man."  With  this,  I  placed  my  arm  firmly  about 
her  slight  .form,  and,  without  more  ado,  the  languid 
head  dropped  upon  my  shoulder. 

I  very  soon  had  the  satisfaction  to  discover  that 
"  tired  nature's  sweet  restorer  "  had  come  to  my  as- 
sistance, and  to  discern  the  return  of  some  natural 
color  to  the  pallid  face  of  the  poor  sufferer  ;  so  gatli- 
ering  her  shawl  more  closely  about  her,  and  disposing 
myself  more  effectually  to  support  my  light  burden, 
I  maintained  my  vigil  until  the  sudden  stopping  of 
the  vehicle  aroused  us  all. 

"  The  lady  gets  out  here,"  cried  the  driver,  open- 
ing the  door,  and,  through  the  obscurity  that  had 
now  gathered  about  us,  I  dimly  discerned  the  out- 
lines of  the  small  dwelling  in  front  of  which  we  were 
at  a  stand.  In  another  moment,  the  door  was  flung 
hurriedly  open,  and  a  gentleman  hastened  forward 
to  receive  my  fair  charge,  who,  notwithstanding  the 
confusion  of  the  moment,  found  time  to  acknowledge 
the  insignificant  attentions  she  had  received  from 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  39S 

her  travelliug  companions,  mncli  more  warmly  than 
thev  deserved.  Our  last  glimpse  of  my  interesting 
patient,  revealed  her  folded  closely  in  the  arms  of 
a  lady,  who  appeared  in  the  lighted  passage,  and 
embraced,  simultaneously,  by  several  curly-headed 
children,  who  clung  to  her  dress,  and  hung  upon  her 
neck  with  manifest  and  noisy  delight. 

We  lumbered  along,  across  a  dark,  covered  bridge, 
up  hill  and  down,  and  then  I  reached  my  destina- 
tion, for  the  nonce,  the  "  'New  York  Hotel,"  as  the 

little  tavern  of  the  village  of  B was  grand-elo- 

quently  styled. 

"  Well,  I  ain't  sorry  we're  arrove !"  exclaimed  the 
elegant  young  man,  with  whose  courtesy  of  nature  my 
story  opened.  "  George !" — stretching  his  ungainly 
limbs  upon  the  porch  of  the  house — "won't  some 
tipple  be  line  ?   Hotel  tipple's  good  enough  for  me !" 

Before  I  could  decide  in  my  own  mind  whether 
this  last  declaration  was  intended  as  a  fling  at  me, 
for  not  giving  Miss  Peters  a  match  for  his  disgusting 
tobacco-smoke,  from  the  bar  of  the  stage-house,  when 
I  came  to  the  rescue  in  her  service,  he  was  scuffling 
with  some  ragged  boys  for  his  trunk,  and,  as  ho 
marched  off  with  his  prize,  I  heard  a  characteristic 
growl  over  the  prospective  tax  upon  his  purse. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and,  of  course,  I  was 
temporarily  at  a  stand-still  in  my  journey. 

The  sexton  of  the  neat  little  church  to  which  I 
found  my  way  in  the  morning,  put  me  into  a  pew 
next  behind  that  I  surmised  to  be  the  Eector's.  A 
movement  among  its  occupants  arrested  my  attention^ 

17* 


394: 


and  1  soon  became  really  interested  in  remarking 
the  healthful  beauty  of  the  children,  who,  disposed 
between  the  two  ladies  occupying  the  extreme  ends 
of  the  seat,  seemed  to  find  some  difficulty  in  keeping 
as  quiet  as  decorum  required. 

"  I  want  to  sit  by  aunt  Julia,"  I  overheard,  as  a 
bright-eyed  little  fellow  began  to  nestle  uneasily  in 
his  seat.  Upon  this,  the  lady  at  the  top  of  the  pew 
turned  her  head,  and,  behold !  the  face  of  my  young 
stage-coach  friend  I  She  was  too  much  engaged, 
however,  in  aiding  their  mother,  as  I  supposed  her 
to  be,  in  settling  the  children,  before  the  service 
should  commence,  to  observe  me,  and  I  almost 
doubted  whether  the  happy,  smiling  face  I  saw,  was 
identical  with  the  worn  and  colorless  one  that  had 
reposed  so  helplessly  upon  my  breast  on  the  previous 
evening ;  but  there  was  no  mistaking  the  soft,  blue 
eyes,  and  the  wavy  hair,  almost  as  sunny  in  hue 
as  that  of  the  little  fellow  who,  at  length,  rested 
quietly,  with  his  head  pillowed  on  her  arm. 

Scarcely  had  we  begun  with  the  Psalter,  before  Miss 
Peters  looked  quickly  round,  with  a  startled  glance. 
A  half-smile  of  recognition  lighted  her  sweet  face, 
and  then  her  gaze  was  as  quickly  withdrawn. 

"Good  morning,  sir!"  exclaimed  my  new  ac- 
quaintance, advancing  eagerly  toward  me,  and  offer- 
ing her  hand,  as  soon  as  we  were  in  the  vestibule  of 
the  church,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  service ;  "  I  did 
not  anticipate  this  pleasure-rsister,  this  is  the  gen- 
tleman to  whom  I  was  so  much  indebted  yesterday." 

"We  are  all  much  obliged  by  your  kindness  to 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  895 

Kiss  Peters  sir,"  her  companioii  hastened  to  say, 
iind  both  bowed  most  politely  to  my  disclaimers  of 
meiit  for  so  ordinary  an  act  of  humanity  as  that  to 
which  they  referred,  and  to  my  inquiries  for  the 
health  of  my  fair  patient. 

Then  followed  a  cordial  invitation  to  dinner,  in 
which  each  vied  with  the  other  in  frank  hospitality. 
I  attempted  to  compromise  the  matter  by  a  promise 
to  pay  my  respects  to  the  ladies  in  the  evening. 

"  We  do  not  dine  until  five  on  Sunday,  sir,  and 

that  is  almost  evening !     Mr.  Y- will  walk  over 

and  accompany  you — ^you  are  at  the  Hotel  ?  It  will 
give  us  great  pleasure  if  you  will  come,  unceremoni- 
ously, and  partake  of  a  simple  family  dinner.  Miss 
Peters  claims  you  as  a  friend.^'' 

There  was  no  withstanding  this,  especially  as  each 
phrase  of  courtesy  was  made  doubly  expressive,  by 
the  most  ingenuously  hospitable  manner. 

''  Keally,  ladies,"  said  I,  as  we  reached  the  gate 
of  the  Pectory,  "there  is  no  resisting  such  fair 
tempters!  I  will  be  most  happy  to  exchange  the 
solitude  of  my  dull  room  for  the  joys  of  your  Eden." 

And,  insisting  that  I  could  not  permit  Mr.  Y 

to  add  to  his  clerical  duties  the  fatigue  of  calling  for 
me,  I  renewed  my  expressions  of  gratification  at  the 
restoration  of  Miss  Peters,  and  took  my  leave. 

I  was  still  engaged  in  laying  off  my  overcoat  and 

shoes,  after  sending  in  my  card,  when  Mr.  Y 

came  out  to  welcome  ^me ;  and  a  most  cordial  wel- 
come it  was !  Such  a  warm  hand-shaking  as  he  gave 
me,  and  such  emphatic  assurances  of  the  pleasure  it 


396 


afforded  liim  to  make  my  acquaintance !  And  wLen 
I  entered  the  tasteful  little  parlor,  where  I  found 
the  ladies,  I  was  received  with  equally  frank  hospi- 
tality. The  children  united  with  their  seniors  in 
making  me  feel,  at  once,  that  I  was  among  friends. 
One  little  circumstance,  I  remember,  particularly 
touched  me.  I  was  scarcely  seated,  when  a  little 
tottering  thing,  with  a  toy  in  her  hand,  came  and 
placed  herself  between  my  knees,  and  raising  a  pair 
of  large,  truthful,  blue  eyes  to  mine,  lisped  out,  "  I 
does  'ouv  'ou  dearly ! — 'ou  was  'o  dood  to  aun'  Dule ! 
— I  dive  'ou  my  pretty  'ittle  birdie !"  and  the  little 
cherub  presented  me  the  toy. — It  was  many  a  long 
day  afterwards,  believe  me,  my  dear  boys,  before  the 
warmth  infused  into  the  heart  of  an  old  campaigner, 
by  the  simple  adventures  of  that  quiet  village  Sab- 
bath, ceased  to  glow  cheerily  in  his  heart ! 

After  the  unpretending,  but  pleasant,  well-appointed 
dinner  was  concluded,  Miss  Peters  rose,  and,  with  a 
slight  apology  to  me,  was  leaving  the  room,  when 
her  sister  arrested  her.  Some  playful,  whispered 
contest  seemed  to  be  going  on  between  the  two,  of 
which  I  could  not  help  overhearing,  in  the  sweet, 
silvery  tones  that  had  charmed  me  in  the  stage- 
coach, "  You  know,  dear,  it's  such  a  luxury  to  me ! 
— you  are  always  with  them.  I  will  have  my  own 
way  when  I  am  here !"  and  away  she  flew  like  a 
fawn. 

Presently,  the  pattering  of  numerous  tiny  feet,  and 
a  commingling  of  joyous  voices,  and  the  music  of 
childish  laughter,  reached  my  ears,  from  the  staii-s, 


TO  POLITENESS   AND   FASHION  397 

and  then  all  was  for  a  moment  hnshed.  !Now  there 
was  distinctly  heard  from  above,  the  swelling  notes 
of  a  simple,  child's  hymn,  sung  by  several  voices, 
led  by  the  musical  one  I  had  learned  to  distinguish, 
and  then  followed  a  low-murmured  "  Our  Father," 
as  I  thought. 

"  Colonel  Lunettes,"  said  my  hostess,  drawing  a 
chair  to  the  sofa  corner,  where  I  had  been  snugly 
ensconced  by  two  of  the  children,  before  they  said 
good-night,  "  I  will  take  advantage  of  sister's  absence 
to  express  my  personal  obligations  to  you  for  your 
kind  care  of  her  yesterday  " 

"  My  dear  Madam,"  I  interposed,  "  I  regard  my 
meeting  your  sister  as  a  special  Providence,  for 
which  I  alone  should  be  deeply  grateful !" 

"You  are  very  polite,  sir,"  answered  the  lady, 
"  we,  too,  should  be  grateful.  Julia  should  never  tra- 
vel alone.     Mr.  Y always  goes  over  to  O • 

for  her,  when  we  expect  her,  and  intended  to  do  so 
this  time,  but  she  insisted  upon  it  in  her  last  letter, 
that  she  hnew  she  wouldn't  be  ill,  and  that  he  would 
only  distress  her  by  coming,  as  she  was  sure  he  was 
necessarily  very  busy,  preparing  for  the  Bishop's 
visit,  and,  indeed,  she  expected  to  come  over  with 
an  elder  lady  teacher  in  the  Seminary." 

"  Tlien  Miss  Peters  is  instructing,  Mrs.  Y ?'' 

"  She  is,  sir.  We  are  orphans  [a  slight  quiver  in 
the  tones]  and  Julia  prefers  to  make  this  effort  for 
herself" 

"  I  am  opposed  to  it,"  continued  Mr.  Y ,  tak- 
ing up  the  narrative,  as  his  wife  half-paused,  "and 


398 


much  prefer  that  Julia  ehould  be  with  us, — she  and 

Mrs.  Y should  not  be  separated.     I  am   sure 

there  is  room  enough  in  our  hearts  for  all  mir  chil- 
dren, and  Julia  is  one  of  them !" 

The  grateful,  loving  smile,  and  dewy  eyes  of  the 
wife,  alone  expressed  her  sense  of  pleasure  at  these 
w^ords.  For  myself,  I  declare  to  you,  I  did  not  like 
to  trust  myself  to  reply.  I  was  turning  over  some 
new  pages  of  the  history  of  human  nature  !  Some- 
times I  think,  as  I  did  then,  that  the  soul  of  man 
never  reaches  the  full  development  of  its  earthly  ca- 
pacities, except  when  continually  subjected  to  the 
blessed  influences  of  nature!  The  city — the  beaten 
thoroughfares  of  existence — curb,  if  they  do  not 
deaden,  the  better  manifestations  of  the  spirit,  check 
forever,  the  most  beautiful,  individualizing  speciali- 
ties of  manner  even !  But  I  did  not  mean  to  moral- 
ize. 

When  Miss  Peters  rejoined  us,  her  brother-in-law 
rose  (as  I  also  did,  of  course)  and  seated  her  between 
us,  on  the  sofa. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  said  I,  taking  her  hand 
respectfully  in  my  own,  "  permit  me  to  say,  as  Dr. 
Johnson  did  to  Hannah  More,  upon  meeting  her  for 
the  first  time,  '  /  understand  that  you  are  engaged 
in  the  useful  and  honorable  occupation  of  instructing 
young  ladies,^ — if  it  were  possible  more  thoroughly 
to  forget  the  brevity  of  our  acquaintance,  than  1  have 
already  done,  this  would  have  deepened  my  respect 
and  interest  for  you !  Pardon  me,  if  I  take  too 
great  a  liberty.    You  have,  from  the  commencement 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  309 

of  our  acquaintance,  permitted  me  the  privileges  of 
an  octogenarian  " 


"  And  of  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school  /"  slie 
added,  with  great  vivacity,  and  with  the  most  be- 
witching smile. 

"  Before  I  leave  you,  my  dear  Miss  Peters,  will 
you  allow  me  to  make  a  prophecy  ?" 

"  If  you  are  a  prophet  of  good,  sir  " 

"  Can  you  doubt  it,  when  your  future  fate  is  the 
subject?" 

"Indeed,  sir,  I  shall  have  great  faith  in  your 
auguries !"  returned  my  fair  neighbor,  bestowing  the 
twin  of  her  first  smile  upon  me. 

"  Well,  then,  my  dear,  it  is  my  solemn  conviction 
that  you  have  not  yet  learned  all  you  will  one  day 
know  of  the  depth  of  the  impression  you  have  left 
upon  the  heart  of  Mr.  Benton,"  I  answered,  with  a 
gravity  that  I  intended  should  tell. 

"  Mr.  Benton !  so  that's  his  name  ?"  laughed  Mrs. 

y ,   gaily.  "Julia  pretended  not   to   know  his 

name !  I  thought  it  was  a  conquest !  I  have  not 
yet  had  an  opportunity  of  looking  out  the  ''language'' 
of  a  very  large,  fullblown  carnation  pink!" 

"Ko  doubt,"  interrupted  Mr.  Y ,  "it  is  pre- 
cisely the  opposite  of  lemon-juice  /" 

Between  laughing  and  blushing,  the  fair  subject 
of  this  badinage  made  but  a  faint  show  of  resistance ; 
but,  at  this  juncture,  she  managed  to  say,  as  she 
turned  to  me,  with  a  most  courteous  bow. 

"I  very  much  question  whether  the  sentiments 
expressed  by  any  flower  can  more  readily  touch  tJie 


400 


heart,  than  that  I  have  known  conveyed  by  a  tea* 
sjpoonful  of  brandy  /" 

"  Bravo !"  cried  Mr.  Y . 

"  Well  done,  Jule !"  echoed  my  hostess. 

And  I ! — my  feelings  were  too  deep  for  words !  I 
could  only  lay  my  hand  upon  my  heart,  and  raise 
my  eyes  to  the  ceiling. 


Perhaps  there  is  no  better  test  of  the  unexception- 
ableness  of  a  habit,  than  to  suppose  it  generally 
adopted,  and  infer  the  consequences.  I  remember 
some  such  reflection,  in  connection  with  a  little  cir- 
cumstance that  once  fell  under  my  observation: — 
Dining  with  a  young  Canadian,  at  his  residence  in 
Kingston,  C.  W.,  I  met,  among  other  persons,  an 
English  notability,  of  whom  I  had  frequently  heard 
and  read.  A  slight  pause  in  the  conversation,  made 
doubly  audible  a  loud  yawn  proceeding  from  one 
corner  of  the  dining-room,  and,  as  a  general  look  of 
surprise  was  visible,  a  huge  Newfoundland  dog  ap- 
proached us,  stretching  his  limbs,  and  shaking  from 
his  shaggy  coat  anything  but 

"  Sabaean  odors,  from  the  spicy  shores 
Of  Araby  the  Blest !" 

Our  host  endeavored  to  say  something  polite,  and 
the  animal,  advancing  toward  the  celebrity,  stationed 
himself,  familiarly,  at  his  master's  side,  somewliat  to 
the  annoyance,  probably,  of  the  lady  next  him. 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  401 

With  the  utmost  sangfroid^  the  "  privileged  char- 
acter "  held  his  finger-bowl  to  his  dog,  and  remarked, 
as  he  eagerly  lapped  the  contents,  that  he  had  eaten 
highly-seasoned  venison  at  lunch ! 


"  Foreigners,"  says  Madame  de  Stael,  "  are  a  kind 
of  contemporaneous  posterity."  This  truth  apart,  I 
had  sufficient  reason  to  blush  for  my  country,  on 
more  than  one  occasion,  lately,  while  travelling  at 
the  "West,  in  company  with  a  well-bred  young  Eu- 
ropean. His  own  manners  were  so  pleasing  as  to 
render  more  striking  the  peculiarities  of  others,  and 
his  habits  so  refined,  as,  when  united  with  his  large 
observation  and  intelligence,  to  make  him  an  ex- 
ceedingly agreeable  person  to  associate  with. 

One  hot  day,  during  a  portion  of  our  journey  per^ 
formed  by  steamer,  I  looked  up  from  my  book,  and 
saw  him  coming  toward  me. 

"  I  have  found  a  cool  place,  sir,"  said  he,  "  and 
have  come  to  beg  you  to  join  me — we  shall  be  un- 
.  disturbed  there." 

I  rose,  and  was  about  to  take  up  my  seat. 

"  Allow  me,  sir !  I  am  the  younger,"  said  he ;  and 
lie  insisted  upon  carrying  my  seat,  as  well  as  the  one 
he  had  previously  secured  for  himself.  And  this 
was  his  habitual  phrase,  when  there  was  any  occa- 
sion to  allude  to  the  difi'erence  in  our  years.  He 
never  said — "  You  are  older  than  I  am,"  or  insinu- 
ated that  my  lameness  made  me  less  active  than  he, 
when  he  ofi:ered  his  arm,  in  our  numerous  prome- 


402 


nades.  The  idea  lie  seemed  ever  studying  to  express 
was,  that  he  had  pleasure  in  the  society  of  the  old 
soldier,  and  thought  him  entitled  to  respect  and  pre- 
cedence on  all  occasions.  Aside  from  the  personal 
gratification  and  comfort  I  derived  from  these  grace- 
ful and  unremitting  attentions,  it  was  a  source  of 
perpetual  pleasure  to  me  to  observe  his  beautiful 
courtesy  to  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  He 
had  with  him  a  land  surveyor,  or  agent  of  some  sort ; 
with  this  person  he,  apparently,  found  little  in  com- 
mon, but,  when  he  had  occasion  to  converse  with 
him,  I  always  remarked  his  punctilious  politeness. 
And  so  with  his  servant ;  he  always  requested^  never 
ordered,  him  to  do  what  he  wished.  Reserved  and 
laconic,  when  giving  him  directions,  there  was  yet 
a  certain  assuring  kindliness  in  his  'ooice^  that  seemed 
to  act  like  a  talisman  upon  his  man,  who,  speaking 
our  language  very  imperfectly,  would  have  often  suf- 
fered the  consequences  of  embarrassing  mistakes, 
but  for  the  clear,  simple,  intelligible  directions  and 
explanations  of  his  master.     But  to  return. 

Scarcely  were  we  seated  quietly  in  the  retired 
spot  so  carefully  selected  by  my  friend,  when  a 
couple  of  young  fellows  came  swaggering  along,  and 
stationing  themselves  near  us,  began  smoking,  spit- 
ting and  talking  so  loudly,  as  to  disturb  and  annoy 
us,  exceedingly. 

"  What  a  pity  that  this  fine  air  should  be  so  poi- 
soned!" exclaimed  my  companion,  in  French,  glanc- 
ing at  the  intruders.  "For  my  part,  'j^re  aw  is  good 
enough  for  me,  without  perfume !" 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  403 

"  Do  you  never  smoke  ?"  I  asked,  in  the  same 
tx>ngue. 

"  Certainly !  but  I  do  not  smoke  always  and  every- 
where !  !N"eitlier  do  I  think  it  decent  to  soil  every 
place  with  tobacco-juice,  as  you  do  in  this  country !" 

"It  is  infamous!"  returned  I.  "Kow  just  look  at 
those  fellows !  See  how  near  they  are  to  that  group 
of  ladies,  and  then  look  at  the  condition  of  the  deck 
all  around  them."  As  I  spoke,  the  lady  nearest  the 
nuisance,  apparently  becoming  suddenly  aware  of 
her  dangerous  proximity,  hurriedly  gathered  her 
dress  closely  about  her,  and  moved  as  far  away  as 
she  could  without  separating  herself  from  her  party. 
Despite  these  indications,  the  shower  continued  to 
fall  plentifully  around,  and  the  smoke  to  blow  into 
the  faces  of  those  who  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  be 
seated  in  the  neighborhood. 

"  Have  you  not  regulations  to  prevent  such  annoy- 
ances," inquired  the  stranger. 

"  Every  steamer  professes  to  have  them,  I  believe," 
returned  I,  "  but  if  such  vulgar  men  as  these  choose 
to  violate  them,  no  one  even  thinks  of  insisting  upon 
their  enforcement — every  one  submits,  and  every 
one  is  annoyed — that  is,  all  decent  people  are!" 

"  Vive  la  Liberte  et  VEgaliteP^  exclaimed  the 
European,  laughing  good-humoredly. 

"  As  if  echoing  the  mirth  of  my  companion,  a 
merry  laugh  from  the  group  of  ladies  near  us,  arrest- 
ed my  attention  at  this  moment.  "Without  appearing 
to  remark  them,  I  soon  ascertained  that  they  were 
amusing  themselves  with  the  ridiculous  figure  pre» 
Bented  by  one  of  the  smokers.     His  associate  had  left 


40* 

him  "  alone  in  his  glory,"  and  there  he  sat,  fast  asleep, 
with  his  mouth  wide  open,  his  hat  over  one  eye, 
and  his  feet  tucked  across  under  the  seat  of  his  chair, 
which  supported  only  on  its  hind  legs,  was  tilted 
back  against  the  side  of  the  cabin.  My  description 
can  give  you  but  a  poor  idea  of  the  ludicrousness  of 
the  thing.  One  of  those  laughing  girls  would  have 
done  it  better !  I  overheard  more  than  one  of  their 
di'oU  comments. 

"  What  if  his  chair  should  upset,  when  he  '  catches 
fish !' "  exclaimed  a  pretty  little  girl,  looking  roguish- 
ly from  under  her  shadowing  round  straw  hat. 

"There  is  more  danger  that  that  wasp  will  fly 
down  his  throat,"  replied  another  of  the  gay  bevy, 
"  What  a  yawning  cavern  it  is !  That  wasp  is  hover- 
ing over  the  '  crack  of  doom !' " 

"He  reminds  me  rather  of  Daniel  in  the  lion's 
den,"  put  in  a  third. 

"  Let's  move  our  seats  before  he  wakes  up,"  cried 
one  of  the  girls,  as  the  nondescript  made  a  slight 
demonstration  upon  a  fly  that  had  invaded  his  repose. 
"  He  is  protected  by  the  barricade  he  has  surround- 
ed himself  with — like  a  upas-tree  in  the  centre  of 
its  own  vile  atmosphere — but  we^  unwary  travellers, 
are  not  equally  safe  !" 

A  day  or  two  afterwards,  these  very  yc:ing  men 
were  just  opposite  me  at  table,  in  a  hotel  in  one  of 
our  large  Western  cities. 

They  were  well  dressed  (with  the  exception  of 
colored  shirts)  and  well-looking  enough,  but,  after 
what  I  had  previously  seen  of  them,  I  was  not  sur« 
prised  to  observe  their  habits  of  eating.     One  would 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  405 

throw  up  both  arms,  and  clasp  his  hands  over  his 
head,  while  waiting  for  a  re-supply  of  food;  the 
other  stop,  now  and  then,  to  lay  off\i\s>  bushy  mous- 
tache, so  as  to  make  more  room  for  the  shovelling 
process  he  kept  up  with  his  knife,  for  the  more  rapid 
disappearance  of  a  large  goblet  of  water  at  one  swal- 
lowing, or  for  the  introduction  of  a  mammoth  ear  of 
corn,  which  he  took  both  hands  to  hold,  while  he 
gobbled  up  row  after  row,  with  inconceivable  rapid- 
ity. Then  one  would  manipulate  an  enormous 
drum-stick,  while  he  lolled  comfortable  back  in  his 
chair,  grievously  belaboring  his  voluminous  beard, 
the  while,  and  leaving  upon  it  an  all-sufficient  sub- 
stitute for  maccassar,  and  the  other,  simultaneously 
make  a  loud  demonstration  with  his  pocket-handker- 
chief, or  upon  his  head.  Now  one  would  stretch  out 
his  legs  under  the  table,  until  he  essentially  invaded 
ray  reserved  rights,  and  then  the  other  insert  his 
tongue  first  in  one  cheek,  and  then  in  the  other,  rol- 
ling it  vigorously  round,  as  a  cannoneer  would  swab 
out  a  great  gun  with  his  sponge,  before  re-loading ! 
Flushed,  heated,  steaming,  the  hea,ps  of  sweet-pota- 
to skins,  bones,  and  bits  of  food  profusely  scattered 
over  the  soiled  cloth,  fully  attested  the  might  of  their 
achievements ! 

Much  of  this,  as  I  said,  I  was  prepared  for,  but  I 
was  somewhat  surprised  by  what  followed. 

I  had  sent  for  a  quail,  I  think,  or  some  other  small 
game,  and  was  preparing  to  discuss  its  merits,  when 
one  of  these  young  men,  reaching  over,  stuck  his  fork 
into  the  bird,  and  ta-ansfcrred  it  to  his  own  plate ! 


406 


I  saw  at  a  glance  that  no  offense  was  intended  to 
me — that  the  seeming  rudeness  was  simply  the  result 
of  vulgarity  and  ignorance ;  so  1  very  quietly  directed 
the  servant  to  bring  me  another  bird. 

Scarcely  was  the  second  dish  placed  before  me, 
when  the  other  youth  of  this  delectable  pair  exactly 
repeated  the  action  of  his  companion,  and  I  again 
found  myself  minus  my  game. 

"  Mon  Dieu  .^"  cried  my  young  foreign  friend,  "  if 
you  can  endure  that,  you  are  a  hero,  sir !" 

An  hour  or  two  subsequent  to  this  agreeable  inci- 
dent, I  was  again  seated  in  the  cars,  and  hearing  a 
noise  behind  me,  soon  satisfied  myself  that  my  neigh- 
bors at  dinner  that  day  were  to  be  my  neighbors 
still,  and  that  they  were  at  present  busily  employed 
in  disputing  with  the  conductor  respecting  a  seat 
next  their  own,  which  they  wished  to  monopolize  for 
the  accommodation  of  their  legs,  and  which,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  crowded  state  of  the  cars,  the  man 
insisted  upon  filling  with  other  passengers.  Pre- 
sently there  came  in  a  pale,  weary-looking  woman, 
with  a  wailing  infant  in  her  arms  and  another  young 
child  clinging  to  her  garments.  She  found  a  seat 
where  she  could,  and  sinking  into  it,  disposed  of  a 
large  basket  she  had  also  carried,  and  commenced 
trying  to  pacify  the  baby. 

Here  was  a  fit  subject  for  the  rude  jests  and  jibes 
of  the  young  fellows  I  have  described.  And  full  use 
did  they  make  of  their  vulgar  license  of  tongue. 
The  poor  mother  grew  more  and  more  distressed  as 
those  unfeeling  comments  reached  her  ears  from 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  407 

time  to  time,  and  at  each  outbreak  from  the  infant 
strove  more  nervously  to  pacify  it. 

I  observed  that  a  good-humored  looking,  large, 
handsome  man,  who  sat  a  little  before  this  woman, 
frequently  glanced  round  at  the  child,  and  sought  to 
divert  its  attention  by  various  little  playful  motions. 
At  length,  when  the  cars  stopped  for  a  few  minutes, 
out  he  sallied,  in  all  haste,  and  presently  returned 
with  his  hands  full  of  fruits  and  cakes.  Offering  a 
liberal  share  of  these  to  the  woman  and  her  little 
girl,  after  distributing  some  to  his  party,  he  reserved 
a  bright  red  apple,  and  said  cheerily  to  the  mother : 
"  Let  me  take  your  little  boy,  ma'am,  I  think  I  can 
quiet  him." 

The  little  urchin  set  up  a  loud  scream,  as  he  found, 
himself  in  the  strong  grasp  of  the  stranger ;  but,  a 
few  moments'  perseverance  effected  his  benevolent 
purpose.  Tossing  the  boy  up,  directing  his  atten- 
tion to  the  apple,  and  then  carrying  him  through  the 
empty  car  a  turn  or  two,  sufficed  to  chase  away  the 
clouds  and  showers  from  what  proved  to  be  a  bright, 
pretty  face,  and  very  soon  the  amiable  gentleman 
returned  to  his  scat,  saying  very  quietly  to  the  wo- 
man, as  he  passed  her,  "  We  will  keep  your  little 
child  awhile,  and  take  good  care  of  him."  The  baby, 
was  healthy-looking,  and  its  clothes,  though  plain, 
were  entirely  clean — so  the  poor  thing  was  by  no 
means  a  disagreeable  plaything  for  the  young  lady 
beside  whom  the  gentleman  was  seated.  For  some 
little  time  they  amused  themselves  in  this  humane 
manner,  and  then  the  young  man  gently  snugged  tho 


408 


weary  creature  down  upon  his  broad  chest,  and 
there  it  lay  asleep,  like  a  flower  on  a  rock,  nestled 
under  a  shawl,  and  firmly  supported  by  the  enfolding 
arm  that  seemed  unconscious  of  its  light  burden. 

Meantime  the  pale,  tired  mother  regaled  herself 
with  the  refreshments  so  bountifully  provided  for 
her,  watching  the  movements  of  the  little  group  be- 
fore her  with  evident  satisfaction;  and  at  length 
settled  herself  for  a  nap  in  the  comer  of  her  seat, 
with  the  other  child  asleep  in  her  lap. 

The  noisy  comments  of  the  "  fast "  young  men  in 
the  rear  of  the  car  became  less  audible  and  offensive, 
I  noticed,  after  the  stranger  came  to  the  rescue,  and 
when  I  passed  their  seat,  afterwards,  I  could  not  be 
surprised  at  their  comparative  silence,  upon  behold- 
ing the  enormous  quantity  of  pea-nut  shells  and  fruit 
skins  with  which  the  floor  was  strewn,  and  noticing 
the  industry  with  which  they  were  squirting  tobacco 
juice  over  the  whole. 

By-and-by  the  cars  made  another  pause.  The 
mother  of  the  little  boy  roused  herself  and  looked 
hastily  round  for  her  treasures.  Upon  this  the 
young  lady  who  occupied  the  seat  with  her  new 
friend  came  to  her  and  seemed  reassuring  her.  As 
soon  as  the  thronging  crowd  had  passed  out,  I  heard 
her  saying,  as  I  caught  a  peep  at  the  sweetest  face, 
bent  smilingly  towards  the  woman — "  I  made  a  nice 
little  bed  for  him,  as  soon  as  the  next  seat  was  empty, 
and  he  is  still  fast  asleep.  Does  he  like  milk  ?  Mr. 
Grant  will  get  some  when  he  wakes — ^it  is  so  unplea- 
sant for  a  lady  to  get  out  of  the  cars."    (Here  the 


'     TO  POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  409 

woman  seemed  to  make  some  explanation,  and  a 
shadow  of  sympathy  passed  over  the  smiling  face  I 
was  admiring,  as  one  sees  a  passing  cloud  move 
above  a  sunny  landscape.)  ""Well,  we  will  be 
glad  to  be  of  use  to  you,  as  far  as  we  go  on,"  pur- 
sued the  fair  girl ;  "  I  will  find  out  all  about  it,  and 
tell  you  before  we  leave  the  cars.  Now,  just  rest 
all  you  can — ^let  me  put  this  shawl  np  a  little 
higher — there  1  It  is  such  a  relief  to  get  off  one's 
bonnet !  I'll  put  it  np  for  you.  The  little  girl  had 
better  come  with  me. — Oh,  no,  she  will  not,  I  am 
sure  !  What's  your  name,  dear  ?  Mary  !  that's  the 
pretiest  name  in  the  world  !  everybody  loves  Mary ! 
I  have  such  a  pretty  book  to  show  you" — and  hav- 
ing tucked  up  the  object  of  her  gentle  care  in  quite 
a  cosy  manner,  while  she  was  saying  this,  the  good 
girl  gave  a  pretty,  encouraging  little  nod  to  the 
woman,  and  went  back,  taking  the  other  juvenile 
with  her,  to  her  own  place.  When  her  companion 
joined  her,  she  looked  up  in  his  face  with  a  beam- 
ing, triumphant  sort  of  a  smile,  and,  receiving  a 
response  in  the  same  expressive  language,  all  seemed 
quite  understood  between  them. 

"  What  an  angel !"  exclaimed  the  young  Euro- 
pean, in  his  favorite  tongue,  as  he  re-entered  the 
car,  and  caught  part  of  this  little  by-scene.  "  Do 
you  know  what  she  said  to  that  poor  woman  ?" 

I  gave  him  all  the  explanation  in  my  poVer. 
His  fine  eyes  kindled.  "  She  is  as  good  as  she  is 
beautiful  I  Have  you  remarked  the  magnificent 
bead  of  the  gentleman  with  her?    What  a  superb 

18 


410 

profile  he  has — so  classic !  And  his  broad  chest— 
there's  a  model  for  a  bust  I  I  happened  to  be  in  the 
studio  of  your  celebrated  countrymau,  Powers,  at 
Florence,  with  my  father,  who  was  sitting  to  him, 
when  the  great  Thorwaldsen  came  to  visit  him. 
Boy,  as  I  was,  at  that  time,  I  remember  his  words, 
as  he  stood  before  the  bust  of  your  Webster  :  ^Ican- 
7iot  make  such  busts  P  But  was  it  not,  sir,  because 
he  had  no  such  models  as  your  country  affords?" 
These  were  courteous  words;  but  I  do  them  poor 
justice  in  the  record ;  I  cannot  express  the  voice 
and  manner  from  which  they  received  their  charm. 

Well,  at  the  risk  of  tiring  you,  I  hasten  to  con- 
clude my  little  sketch.  I  amused  myself  by  quietly 
watching  the  thing  through,  and  noticed,  towards 
evening,  that  the  amiable  strangers  went  together  to 
the  woman  they  had  befriended,  after  the  gentleman 
had  been  into  the  hotel,  before  which  we  were 
standing,  seemingly  to  make  some  inquiry  for  her. 
Both  talked  for  a  few  minutes,  apparently  very 
kindly,  to  her  and  to  the  children,  and  seemed  to 
encourage  her  by  some  assurance  as  they  parted. 
As  they  were  turning  away,  the  grateful  mother 
rose,  and,  snatching  the  hand  first  of  one,  and 
then  of  the  other,  burst  out,  with  a  "  God  bless 
you  both !"  so  fervent  as  to  be  audible  where  I  sat. 

"  Don't  speak  of  such  a  trifle !"  returned  the 
youth,  in  a  clear,  distinct  voice,  raising  his  noble 
fonn  to  its  full  height,  and  flashing  forth  the  light  of 
his  falcon  eye ;  "  for  my  part,  I  am  very  glad  to  bo 
able  to  do  a  little  good  as  I  go  along  in  the  world  1" 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  411 

In  a  few  moments  the  handsome  stranger  was  seen 
carefully  placing  his  fair  travelling  companion  in  an 
elegant  carriage,  where  a  lady  was  awaiting  them, 
and  upon  which  several  trunks  were  already  strap- 
ped. While  cordial  greetings  were  still  in  progress 
between  the  trio,  a  well-dressed  servant  gave  the 
reins  to  a  superb  pair  of  dark  bays,  and  in  another 
insta^it  they  were  flying  along  in  the  direction  of  a 
stately-looking  mansion  of  which  I  caught  sight  in 
the  distance. 

"  Who  the  d is  that  fellow  ?"  shouted  one  of 

the  pair  in  the  rear.     "  I  say,  porter,"  stretching  his . 
body  far  out  of  the  car  window,  and  beckoning  to  a 
man    on    the    steps  of   the   neighboring  building, 
"  What's  the  name  of  those  folks  in  that  carriage  ? 
dev'lish  pretty  girl,  I  swear !" 

"Sir-r-r?"  answered  Paddy,  coming  to  the  side 
of  the  car,  and  pulling  his  dirty  cap  on  one  side 
of  his  head  with  one  hand,  while  he  operated  upon 
his  carroty  hair  with  the  fingers  of  the  other; 
"  what's  yer  honor's  plaizure  ?" 

"I  say,  what's  the  name  of  that  gentleman  who 
has  just  gone  off  in  that  carriage  there  V* 

"  Oh  !  sure  that's  young  Gineral  Grant ;  him  that 
owns  the  fine  house  beyant — I  hear  tell  he's  the  new 
Congressman,  sir!" 

"  jBien  .^"  whispered  my  foreign  friend,  laughing 
heartily,  "  this  is  a  great  country !  you  do  things 
upon  so  large  a  scale  here,  that  one  must  not 
wonder  when  extremes  meetP^ 


412 


"What,  coz,  still  sitting  with  jour  things  on, 
waiting  ?    Haven't  you  been  impatient  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,  not  at  all,  I've  been  reading." 

"  Well,  but,  do  you  know  it's  twelve  o'clock  ?  Wo 
were  to  start  at  half-past  ten.  What  did  you  think 
of  me  for  delaying  so  long  ?" 

"  I  was  afraid  some  accident  had  happened ;  but  I 
could  see  nothing  from  the  window,  and  I  did  not 
like  to  go  out  on  the  portico  alone." 

"  Then  you  did  not  think  me  careless,  and  were 
not  vexed  ?" 

"  Kot  I,  indeed !  I  was  sure  you  would  come  if 
you  could,  and  was  only  anxious  about  you,  as  you 
were  to  try  tliat  new  horse.  I  did  not  take  off  my 
bonnet,  because  I  kept  expecting  you  every  mo- 
ment." 

"  And  I  kept  expecting  to  come  every  moment — 
that  devilish  animal !  I  tried  to  send  you  word,  but 
I  could  not  get  sight  of  a  servant — confound  the  fel- 
lows! they  are  always  out  of  the  way  when  one 
wants  them." 

"  But,  Charley,  dear,  what  about  the  horse  ?  Has 
he  really  troubled  you?  I  am  sorry  you  bought 
him." 

*'  Oh,  I've  conquered  him !  it  wouldn't  have  taken 
me  so  long  before  I  had  that  devilish  fever  I  But, 
come,  cozzy  dear,  will  you  go  now,  or  is  your  pa- 
tience all  gone  ?" 

"  I  would  like  the  drive — but,  Charley,  had  we  not 
better  put  it  off  until  to-morrow  morning?    You 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  4i3 

must  be  tired  out,  and,  perhaps,  the  horse  will  con- 
tinue to  trouble  you." 

"  No,  no — come,  come  along,  if  you  are  willing  to 
go." 

Now,  Charley  and  his  cousin  were  together  at  a 
little  rural  watering-place,  in  search  of  change  of  air 
and  scene.  Charley  had  been  recently  ill,  and,  as 
he  chanced  to  be  separated  from  his  family  at  the  time, 
was  particularly  fortunate  in  having  had  the  gentle 
ministrations  of  Belle,  as  he  usually  called  her,  at 
command,  during  his  convalescence. 

Belle  was  an  orphan,  without  brothers,  and  she 
clung  to  Charley  with  the  tenacity  of  a  loving 
heart,  deprived  of  its  natural  resources.  Temporarily 
relieved  from  her  duties  as  a  teacher,  her  cousin 
invited  her  to  accompany  him  in  this  little  tour,  in 
pity  for  the  languor  that  was  betrayed  by  her  droop- 
ing eyes,  and  lagging  step ;  and  his  kindly  nurse, 
flattering  herself  that  her  "  occupation  "  was  not  yet 
quite  "  gone,"  was  only  too  happy  to  escape  from  her 
city  prison,  under  such  safe  and  agreeable  protec- 
tion. Yielding  and  quiet,  as  she  ordinarily  was, 
Belle  had  very  strict  notions  of  propriety  on  some 
points.  So,  when  she  and  her  cousin  were  mak- 
ing their  final  arrangements,  before  commencing 
their  journey,  she  laid  upon  the  table  before  him,  a 
bank-note  of  considerable  amount,  with  the  request 
that  he  would  appropriate  it  to  the  payment  of  her 
travelling  expenses. 

"  Time  enough  for  that,  by-and-by,  coz." 

"  No,  if  you  please,  Charley.    It  is  enough  that^ 


414r  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GTTIDB 

you  will  be  burdened  by  the  care  of  me,  without 
having  your  purse  taxed,  too.  Just  be  so  good  as 
to  keep  a  little  account  of  what  you  pay  for  me — 
remembering  porterage,  carriage-hire,  and  such  mat- 
ters— ^ladies  always  have  the  most  luggage."  And  a 
little  hand  playfully  smoothed  the  doubled  paper 
upon  the  cuff  of  Charley's  coat-sleeve,  and  left  it 
lying  there. 

Her  cousin  very  well  knew  that  this  bank-note 
comprised  a  large  portion  of  Belle's  quarterly  salary, 
though  she  made  no  allusion  to  the  matter;  and, 
though  his  own  resources  were  moderate,  men  so 
much  more  easily  acquire  money  than  women — well, 
never  mind !  people  differ  in  their  ideas  of  luxury. 

Charley  had  some  new  experiences  in  this  little 
tour  of  his  and  Belle's.  He  had  an  idea,  previously, 
that "  women  are  always  a  bother,  in  travelling,"  and 
he  found  himself  sorely  puzzled  to  make  out,  exactly, 
what  trouble  it  was  to  have  his  cousin  always  ready 
to  read  to  him,  when  they  sat  together  on  the  deck 
of  a  steamer,  or  while  he  lay  on  the  sofa  at  a  hotel, 
to  claim  the  comfortable  seat  at  her  side  in  a  rail- 
car,  to  have  her  keep  his  cane  and  book,  while  he 
went  out  to  chat  with  an  acquaintance,  watch  when 
he  grew  drowsy,  and  softly  gather  his  shawl  about 
his  neck,  and  make  a  pillow  of  her  own  for  him,  or 
to  see  the  tear  that  sometimes  gathered  in  her  meek 
eyes,  when  she  acknowleded  any  little  courtesy  on 
his  part.  Then,  when,  after  they  were  settled  in 
their  snug  quarters,  at  the  watering-place.  Belle, 
half-timidly,  sat  a  moment  on  his  knee,  and,  looking 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  415 

proudly  round  upon  the  order  she  liad  brought  out 
of  chaos,  among  his  toilet  articles,  books,  and  clothes, 
said — "  Oh,  what  a  happy  week  I  have  to  thank  you 
for,  dear  cousin  Charley  1  You  have  done  so  many, 
many  kind  things  for  me,  all  the  way !  I  have  had 
to  travel  alone  almost  always  since  pa's — since  " — he 
was  really  quite  at  a  loss  to  know  what  "  kind  things  " 
she  referred  to,  and  said  so. 

"  Why,  Charley  !"  returned  she,  making  a  vigor- 
ous efibrt  to  get  over  the  choking  feeling  that  had 
suddenly  assailed  her,  upon  alluding  to  her  deceased 
father,  "  don't  you  know — no,  you  don't  know,  what 
a  happiness  it  is  to  a  poor,  lonely  thing,  like  me,  to 
have  some  one  to  take  care  of  her  luggage,  and  pay 
her  fare,  and  all  those  things?  I  know,  in  this 
country,  women  can  travel  alone,  safely — quite  so; 
but  it  isn't  pleasant,  for  all  that,  to  go  into  crowds 
of  rough  men,  without  any  one.  The  other  evening, 
at  New  Haven,  for  instance,  it  was  quite  dark,  when 
we  landed,  and  those  hackmen  made  such  a  noise, 
and  crowded  so — but  I  felt  just  as  safe,  and  comfort- 
able, while  sitting  waiting  for  you  in  the  carriage, 
all  the  while  you  were  gone  back  about  our  trunks ! 
Oh,  you  can't  realize  it,  Charley,  dear  !"  and  the  fair 
speaker  shook  her  head,  with  a  mournful  earnestness, 
that  expressed  almost  as  much  sober  truthfulness,  as 
appealing  femininity. 

But  about  this  morning  drive. 

With  the  trusting  confidence  for  which  her  sex 
have  such  an  infinite  capacity.  Belle  yielded  at  once 
to  the  implied  wish  of  her  temporary  protector,  and 


41G 


they  were  soon  rolling  along,  in  a  light,  open  car- 
riage, through  deeplj-shadowing  woods  and  across 
little  brooklets  which  were  merrily  disporting  them- 
selves under  the  trees. 

The  poor  wild-wood  bird,  so  long  caged,  yet  ever 
longing  to  be  free,  carolled  and  mused  by  turns,  or 
permitted  her  joyous  nature  to  gush  out  in  exclama- 
tions of  delight. 

"  What  delicious  air !"  she  exclaimed.  "  Keally  it 
exhilarates  one,  like  a  cordial.  Oh,  Charley,  dear, 
look  at  those  flowers  !  May  I  get  out  for  them  ?  Do 
let  me  !  I  won't  be  gone  a  minute.  Just  you  sit 
still,  and  hold  your  war-steed.  Don't  be  so  ceremo- 
nious as  to  alight ;  I  need  no  assistance."  And  with 
a  bound  the  happy  creature  was  on  her  feet,  and  in 
an  instant  dancing  along,  to  the  music  of  her  own 
glad  voice,  over  the  soft  grass. 

Too  considerate  to  encroach  upon  his  patience 
unduly.  Belle  soon  reseated  herself  beside  Chariey, 
with  a  lap  full  of  floral  treasures. 

"  Here  are  enough  for  bouquets  for  both  our 
rooms,"  said  she ;  "  how  fresh  and  fragrant  they  are  I 

*  They  have  tales  of  the  joyous  woods  to  tell. 
Of  the  free  blue  streams  and  the  glowing  sky.' 

Bless  God  for  flowers — and  friends  /" 

As  the  artless  girl  fervently  uttered  the  last  words, 
she  turned  a  pair  of  sweet  blue  eyes,  into  which 
tears  of  gratitude  and  pleasure  had  suddenly  started, 
upon  the  face  of  her  companion.  What  a  painful 
revulsion  of  feeling  was  produced  by  that  glance ! 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  41T 

Slie  scarcely  recognized  the  face  of  lier  cousin,  so 
completely  had  gloom  and  discontent  usurped  the 
place  of  his  usual  hilarious  expression.  What  could 
be  the  matter  ?  Had  slio  offended  him ! 

Repressing,  with  quick  tact,  all  manifestations  of 
surprise,  though  her  frame  thrilled,  as  if  from  a 
heavy  blow,  Belle  was  silent  for  a  while,  and  then 
said  in  a  subdued  tone  that  contrasted  strangely  with 
her  former  bird-like  glee — "  Your  horse  goes  nicely 
now,  Charley,  doesn't  he  ?  You  seem  to  have  effec- 
tually conquered  him ;  but  I  am  sure  you  must  be 
tired,  now,  dear  cousin,  you  have  been  out  so  long. 
Had  we  not  better  return  ?" 

"  Why,  y(iu  have  had  no  ride  at  all  yet,  Isabella,'* 
returned  the  young  man,  in  a  voice  that  was  as  start- 
ling to  his  sensitive  auditor  as  his  altered  counte- 
nance had  been. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  have,"  she  quickly  answered,  endeavor- 
ing to  speak  as  cheerfully  as  possible,  "  I  have  en- 
joyed myself  so  much  that  I  ought  to  be  quite  con- 
tented to  go  back,  and  I  really  think  we'd  better 
do  so." 

Charley's  only  response  was  turning  his  horse's 
head  homeward.  For  a  while  they  drove  on  in 
silence.  Belle's  employment  of  arranging  her  flowers 
now  wholly  mechanical,  so  engrossing  was  the 
tumult  in  her  heart. 

Just  as  they  came  in  sight  of  their  hotel,  the  un- 
ruly   animal  that  had  already  occasioned  his  new 
owner  so  much  trouble,  stopped,  and  stood   like 
v/ooden  effigy  in  the  middle  of  the  road. 
18* 


418  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN 's   GUIDE 

In  vain  did  word  and  whip  appeal  to  his  locomo- 
tive powers.  At  length  the  pent-up  wrath  that  had 
apparently  been  gathering  fury  for  the  last  hour 
burst  forth. 

"  Devilish  brute !  I  never  was  so  shamefully  im- 
posed upon  !  I  wish  to  G —  I  never  had  set  foot  in 
this  infernal  hole !  There's  no  company  here  fit  for 
a  decent  fellow  to  associate  with.  I  shall  die  of 
stupidity  in  a  week — particularly  if  I  have  to  drive 
such  a  confounded  concern  as  this !"  Here  followed 
a  volley  of  mingled  blows  and  curses. 

The  terrified  witness  of  this  scene  sat  tremblingly 
silent,  for  a  time,  clinging  to  the  side  of  the  carriage, 
as  if  to  keep  herself  quiet.     Presently  »he  said : 

"  Perhaps  I'd  better  jump  out  and  run  to  the 
house,  and  send  some  one  out  to  assist  you." 

"  You  may  get  out,  if  you  choose,"  answered  her 
cousin,  grufily,  "  but  I  want  no  assistance  about  the 
horse.  I'll  break  every  bone  in  his  body,  but  I'll 
conquer  his  devilish  temper  !" 

After  another  pause.  Belle  said,  "  "Well,  Charley, 
if  you  please,  I  will  walk  on.  I  am  sorry  you  are  so 
annoyed,"  she  added,  timidly,  carefully  averting  her 
pale  face  from  him;  "but  perhaps  this  is  only  a 
phase,  and  he  may  never  do  so  again." 

Her  companion  broke  into  a  loud,  mocking  laugh. 
"  "What  in  thunder  do  you  know  about  horses,  Isa- 
bella?" 

"Nothing,  Charley — nothing  in  the  world,"  re- 
turned his  cousin,  quickly,  in  the  gentlest  voice,  "  I 
only" 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  419^ 

"Ye-es!"  drawled  the  angry  youth,  ^'I  know — 
Bome  women  think  their  '  ready  wit '  will  enable 
them  to  talk  upon  any  subject !  Get  up,  now,  you 
rascal,  will  you  ?" 

Belle  knew  her  weakness  too  well  to  trust  herself 
to  speak,  so,  drawing  her  veil  closely  about  her  face, 
and  gathering  up  her  shawl  and  her  flowers,  she  step- 
ped from  the  low  carriage  with  assumed  composure, 
and  bowing  slightly,  walked  towards  the  house. 

Meeting  a  servant,  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  she 
said,  very  quietly,  '*  Mr.  Cunningham  will  be  here 
in  a  few  minutes  with  his  horse ;  I  hope  some  one 
will  be  ready  to  take  him,"  and  passed  on.  This 
was  all  she  dared  to  do,  in  aid  of  the  exasperated 
youth. 

Once  in  her  own  room,  it  seemed  but  the  work  of 
a  moment  for  the  agitated  girl  to  throw  off  her  shawl 
and  bonnet,  and  transport  some  light  refreshments 
she  had  previously  prepared,  across  the  passage  to 
her  cousin's  room,  to  draw  up  his  lounging  chair  to 
the  table,  and  with  a  few  skillful  touches  to  give  that 
air  of  comfort  to  the  simply-furnished  apartment 
which  it  had  been  her  daily  pleasure  to  impart  to  it. 

This  self-imposed  task  achieved,  she  flew,  like  a 
guilty  intruder,  to  her  own  little  asylum,  and  lock- 
ing the  door,  flung  herself  upon  the  bed,  burying 
her  face  in  the  pillows. 

But  though  her  quick,  convulsive  sobs  were  stifled, 
they  shook  her  slight,  sensitive  form  till  it  quivered 
in  every  nerve,  like  a  delicate  exotic  suddenly  ex- 
posed to  the  blasts  of  a  northern  winter. 


420  THE  AMERICAN  GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

By-and-'by  a  sound  roused  her  from  this  agony  of 
tears. 

"  There  is  the  first  dinner-gong,"  said  she,  to  her- 
self, starting  up,  "  what  shall  I  do  ?  Perhaps  Char- 
ley won't  like  it  if  I  don't  go  to  dinner.  My  head 
aches  dreadfully.  I  don't  mind  that  so  much,  but 
(looking  in  the  glass)  my  face  is  so  flushed.  I 
wouldn't  for  the  world  vex  Charley,  I'm  sure." 
With  this  she  began  some  hasty  toilet  preparations  ; 
but  her  hands  trembled  so  violently  as  to  force  her 
to  desist. 

Wrapping  her  shivering  form  in  her  shawl,  she 
sat  down  on  a  low  chair,  and  again  gave  way  to  emo- 
tions which  gradually  shaped  themselves  thus : 

"I  am  so  sorry  I  came  with  Charley.  He  was  never 
anything  but  kind  till  we  came  here.  And  then  I 
should  have,  at  least,  had  nothing  but  pleasant  things 
to  remember.  But  now — I  am  afraid  Charley  is 
ashamed  of  me ;  he  looked  at  my  dress  so  scrutiniz- 
ingly  this  morning,  when  he  came  to  my  door.  I 
know  I'm  not  the  least  fashionable  ;  but  Mrs.  Tillou 
is,  and  she  complimented  me  on  this  neglige — it  is 
soiled  now,  and  my  pretty  slippers,  too,  walking 
back  through  the  mud  1  '  Isabella !'  How  cold  and 
strange  it  sounded  I  I  am  so  used  to  '  cozzy  dear,' 
and  have  learned  to  love  it  so.  My  poor  heart !" 
pressing  both  hands  upon  her  side  as  if  to  still  a 
severe  pang.  Then  she  rose,  and  creeping  slowly 
along  the  floor,  swallowed  some  water,  and  seating 
herself  at  the  table,  drew  writing  materials  towards 
her.  Steadying  her  hand  with  great  effort,  and  ever? 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  421 

moment  pressing  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  she 
achieved  the  following  note  : 

"  Having  a  little  headache  to-day,  dear  Charley,  I 
prefer  not  to  dine,  if  you  will  excuse  me.     I  will  bo 
quite  ready  to  meet  you  in  the  parlor  before  tea. 
"  Ever  yours, 

"  Belle. 

"  Tuesday  Morning.^'' 

Designing  to  accompany  this  with  some  of  the 
flowers  she  now  remembered,  for  the  first  time  since 
her  return  from  her  ill-starred  morning  excursion, 
Belle  hastily  re-arranged  the  prettiest  of  them  in  a 
little  bouquet.  As  she  removed  an  already  wither- 
ed wild-rose  from  among  its  companions,  a  solitary 
tear  fell  upon  its  shrivelled  petals.  "  Perhaps,"  she 
murmured  mournfully,  with  a  heavy  sigh,  "  I  should 
have  made  another  idol, — perhaps  I  should  soon 
have  learned  to  love  Charley  too  well^  if  this  chasten- 
ing had  not  come  upon  me — could  he  have  thought 
so  V  As  she  breathed  this  query,  the  small  head  was 
suddenly  thrown  back,  like  that  of  a  startled  gazelle, 
and  a  blush  so  vivid  and  burning  as  to  pale  the  pre- 
vious flush  of  agitation,  flashed  over  cheek  and 
brow. 

Quickly  ringing  the  bell,  and  carefully  concealing 
herself  from  observation,  behind  the  door,  when  she 
half-opened  it,  the  servant  who  answered  her  sum- 
mons was  requested  to  hand  the  note  and  flowers  to 
Mr.  Cunningham,  if  he  was  in  his  room,  and  if  not, 


422 


to  place  them  where  he  would  "  be  sure  to  see  them 
when  he  came  up." 

"  When  will  I  ever  learn,"  said  Belle,  in  a  tone  of 
bitter  self-reproach,  as  she  re-locked  the  door,  *'  not 
to  cling  and  trust, — not 

■ "  to  make  idols,  and  to  find  them  clay !" 


"  I  have  not  seen  you  looking  so  well  since  you 
ca.me  here,  Miss  Cunningham,"  said  a  gentleman  to 
Belle,  joining  her  as  she  was  entering  the  public  par- 
lor that  evening.  "  Do  allow  me  to  felicitate  you  I 
What  a  brilliant  color ! — You  were  driving  this 
morning,  were  you  not  ?  !N'o  doubt  you  are  indebted 
to  your  cousin  for  the  bright  roses  in  your  cheeks  I' 


And  now,  my  dear  young  friends,  let  me  only  add, 
in  concluding  this  lengthened  letter,  that,  had  I 
early  acquired  the  habit  of  writing^  you  would, 
doubtless,  have  less  occasion  to  criticise  these  effu- 
sions— attempted,  for  your  benefit,  at  too  late  a 
period  of  life  to  enable  me  to  render  them  what  I 
could  wish.  Use  them  as  'beacons^  since  they  cannot 
serve  as  models  ! 

Adieu ! 

Heney  Lunettes 


TO  POLITENESS  AND   FASHION.  423 


LETTER  XL 

mental  and  mokal  education. 

My  dear  !N^ephews  : 

Having  touched,  in  our  preceding  let- 
ters, upon  matters  relating  to  Physical  Training, 
Manner,  and  the  lighter  accomplishments  that  em- 
bellish existence,  we  come  now  to  the  inner  life — to 
the  Education  of  the  Mind  and  Heart,  or  Soul  of 
Man. 

Metaphysicians  would,  I  make  no  doubt,  find 
ample  occasion  to  cavil  at  the  few  observations  1 
shall  venture  to  offer  you  on  these  important  sub- 
jects, and,  painfully  conscious  of  my  total  want  of  skill 
to  treat  them  in  detail,  I  will  only  attempt  a  few  des- 
sultory  suggestions,  intended  rather  to  impress  you 
with  the  importance  I  attach  to  self-culture^  than  to 
furnish  you  with  full  directions  regarding  it. 

The  genius  of  our  National  Institutions  pre-supposes 
the  truth  that  education  is  within  the  power  of  all,  and 
that  all  are  capable  of  availing  themselves  of  its  bene- 
fits. Education,  in  the  highest,  truest  sense,  does 
not  involve  the  necessity  of  an  elaborate  system  of 
scientific  training,  with  an  expenditure  of  time  and 


4:24  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN 's   GUIDE 

money  entirely  beyond  the  command  of  any  bnt  the 
favored  few  who  make  the  exception,  rather  than  the 
rule,  in  relation  to  the  race  in  general. 

Happily  for  the  Progress  of  Humanity,  the 
"will  to  do,  the  soul  to  dare,"  are  never  wholly 
subject  to  the  control  of  outer  circumstance,  and 
here,  in  our  free  land,  they  are  comparatively  un- 
trammeled. 

"  There  are  two  powers  of  the  human  soul,"  says 
one  of  our  countrymen,  distinguished  for  a  knowledge 
of  Intellectual  Science,  "which  make  self-culture 
possible,  the  self -searching^  and  the  self-forming 
power.  We  have,  first,  the  faculty  of  turning  the 
mind  on  itself;  of  recalling  its  past,  and  watching  its 
present  operations ;  of  learning  its  various  capacities 
and  susceptibilities ;  what  it  can  do  and  bear ;  what 
it  can  enjoy  and  suffer ;  and  of  thus  learning,  in  gen- 
eral, what  our  nature  is,  and  what  it  is  made  for.  It 
is  worthy  of  observation,  that  we  are  able  to  discern 
not  only  what  we  already  are,  but  what  we  may  be- 
come, to  see  in  ourselves  germs  and  promises  of  a 
growth  to  which  no  bounds  can  be  set ;  to  dart 
beyond  what  we  have  actually  gained,  to  the  idea  of 
perfection  at  the  end  of  our  being." 

Assuming  that  to  be  the  most  enlightened  system 
of  education  which  tends  most  effectively  to  develop 
all  the  faculties  of  our  nature,  it  is  impossible,  prac- 
tically, to  separate  moral  and  religious  from  intellec- 
lectual  discipline.  \i  we  possess  the  responsibility 
as  well  as  the  capacity  of  self-training — that  must  be 
a  most  imperfect  system,  one  most  unjust  to  our 


TO   POLITENESS   AND    FASHION.  425 

better  selves,  which  cultivates  the  intellectual  pow* 
ers  at  the  expense  of  those  natural  endowments, 
without  which,  man  were  fitter  companion  for  fiends 
than  for  higher  intelligences ! 

Pursued  beyond  a  certain  point,  education,  estab- 
lished upon  this  basis,  may  not  facilitate  the  acqui- 
sition of  wealth ;  and  if  this  were  the  highest  pursuit 
to  which  it  can  be  made  subservient,  effort,  beyond 
that  point,  were  useless.  But  if  we  regard  the 
acquirement  of  money  chiefly  important  as  afford- 
ing the  essential  means  of  gratifying  the  tastes,  pro- 
viding for  the  necessities,  and  facilitating  the  exercise 
of  the  moral  instincts  of  our  being,  we  return,  at 
once,  to  our  former  position. 

"  He^  therefore^  who  does  what  he  can  to  unfold 
all  his  jpowers  and  capacities,  especially  his  nobler 
ones,  so  as  to  become  a  welPproportioned,  vigorous, 
excellent,  ha;ppy  being,  ^practises  self-culi/areP 

Those  of  you  who  have  enjoyed  the  advantages  of 
a  regular  course  of  intellectual  training,  will  need  no 
suggestion  of  mine  to  aid  you  in  mental  discipline ; 
but  possibly  a  few  hints  on  this  point  may  not  be 
wholly  useless  to  others. 

The  general  dissemination  of  literature,  in  forms 
so  cheap  as  to  be  within  the  reach  of  all,  renders 
reading  a  natural  resource  for  purposes  of  amusement 
as  well  as  instruction.  But  they  who  are  still  so 
young  as  to  make  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  the 
proper  business  of  life,  should  never  indulge  them- 
selves in  reading  for  mere  amusement.    Never,  there- 


426 


fore,  permit  yourselves  to  pass  over  words  or  allu- 
sions, with  the  meaniDg  of  which  you  are  unacquain- 
ted, in  works  you  are  perusing.  Go  at  once  to  the 
fountain-head — to  a  dictionary  for  unintelligible 
words,  to  an  encyclopedia  for  general  information,  to 
a  classical  authority  for  mythological  and  other  simi- 
lar facts,  etc.,  etc.  You  will  not  read  as  fast  ^  by  adopt- 
ing this  plan,  but  you  will  soon  realize  that  you  are, 
nevertheless,  advancing  much  more  rapidly,  in  the 
truest  sense.  When  you  have  not  works  of  reference 
at  command,  adopt  the  practice  of  making  brief 
memoranda,  as  you  go  along,  of  such  points  as  re- 
quire elucidation,  and  avail  yourself  of  the  earliest 
opportunity  of  seeking  a  solution  of  your  doubts. 
And  do  not,  I  beg  of  you,  think  this  too  laborious. 
The  best  minds  have  been  trained  by  such  a  course. 
Depend  upon  it,  genius  is  no  equivalent  for  the 
advantage  ultimately  derived  from  patient  perseve- 
rance in  such  a  course.  I  remember  well,  that  to  the 
latest  year  of  his  life,  my  old  friend,  De  Witt  Clinton, 
one  of  the  noblest  specimens  of  the  race  it  has  been 
my  fortune  to  know,  would  spring  up,  like  a  boy, 
despite  his  stiff  knee,  when  any  point  of  doubt  arose, 
in  conversation,  upon  literary  or  scientific  subjects, 
and  hasten  to  select  a  book  containing  the  desired 
information,  from  a  little  cabinet  adjoining  his  usual 
reception-room.  His  was  a  genuine  love  of  learning 
for  its  own  sake ;  and  the  toil  and  turmoil  of  politi- 
cal life  never  extinguished  his  early  passion,  nor 
deprived  him  of  a  taste  for  its  indulgence. 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  427 

Moralists  have  always  qiiostioned  the  wisdom  of 
indulging  a  taste  for  fictitious  literature,  even  when 
time  has  strengthened  habit  and  principle  into  fixed- 
ness. The  license  of  the  age  in  which  we  live,  ren- 
ders futile  the  elaborate  discussion  of  this  question 
of  ethics.  But,  while  permitting  yourselves  the  oc- 
casional perusal  of  works  of  poetry  and  fiction,  do 
not  so  far  indulge  this  taste  as  to  stimulate  a  disrelish 
for  more  instructive  reading.  And,  above  all,  do 
not  permit  yourselves  to  acquire  an  inclination  for 
the  unwholesome  stimulus  of  licentiousness,  in  this 
respect.  Every  man  of  the  world  should  know 
something  of  the  belle-lettre  literature  of  his  own 
language,  at  least,  and,  as  a  rule,  the  more  the  bet- 
ter; but, 

"  Where  ignorance  is  bliss,  'tis  folly  to  be  wise ;" 

and  the  vile  translations  from  profligate  foreign  lit- 
erature, which  have,  of  late  years,  united  with  equally 
immoral  productions  in  our  own,  to  foster  a  corrupt 
popular  taste,  cannot  be  too  carefully  avoided  by  all 
who  would  escape  moral  contagion. 

You  will  find  the  practice  of  noting  fine  passages, 
felicitous  modes  of  expression,  novel  thoughts,  etc., 
as  they  occur  even  in  lighter  literary  productions, 
not  unworthy  of  your  attention.  It  will  serve,  col- 
laterally, to  assist  in  the  formation  of  a  pure  style  of 
conversation  and  composition,  a  consideration  of  no 
small  importance  for  those  whose  future  career  will 
demand  facility  in  this  regard.  Carlyle  has  some- 
where remarked  that,  "  our  public  men  are  all  gono 


428 


to  tongue !"  This  peculiarity  of  the  times,  may,  to 
some  extent,  have  grown  out  of  its  new  and  peculiar 
social  and  political  necessities.  But,  whether  that 
be  so,  or  not,  since  such  is  the  actual  state  of  things, 
let  all  new  competitors  for  public  distinction  seek 
every  means  of  securing  ready  success. 

While  I  would  not,  without  reservation,  condemn 
the  perusal  of  fictitious  literature,  I  think  you  will 
need  no  elaborate  argument  to  convince  you  of  the 
superior  importance  of  a  thorough  familiarity  with 
History  and  general  Science, 

Let  me,  also,  commend  to  your  attention,  well- 
chosen  Biogrwphy^  as  afibrding  peculiarly  impressive 
incentives  to  individual  effort,  and,  often,  a  consider- 
able amount  of  collateral  and  incidental  information. 
The  Life  of  Johnson,  by  Boswell,  for  instance,  which, 
as  far  as  I  know,  still  retains  its  long-accorded  place 
at  the  very  head  of  this  class  of  composition  (some 
critic  has  recorded  his  wonder  that  the  best  biogra- 
phy in  our  language  should  have  been  written  by  a 
fooll)  contains  a  world  of  information,  respecting 
the  many  celebrated  contemporaries  of  that  great 
man,  the  peculiarities  of  social  life  in  England,  at 
his  day,  and  the  general  characteristics  of  elegant 
literature.  So,  of  Lookhart's  Life  of  Scott,  and  other 
records  of  literarv  life.  The  lives  of  such  men  as 
Shelley,  and  Coleridge,  afford  an  impressive  warn- 
ing to  the  young — teaching,  better  than  a  professed 
homily,  how  little  talents,  unguided  by  steadfastness 
of  purpose  and  principle,  avail  for  usefulness  and 
happiness.    The  examples  of  Lord  Xelson,  Howard, 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  429 

Mungo  Park,  Kobert  Hall,  Franklin,  and  Washing- 
ton, maj  well  be  studied,  in  detail,  for  the  lessons 
they  impress  upon  all.  And  so,  of  many  of  the  brave 
and  the  good  of  our  race — ^I  but  name  such  as  pas- 
singly occur  to  me. 

Do  not  permit  newspaper  and  magazine  reading 
to  engross  too  much  of  your  time,  lest  you  gradually 
fall  into  a  sort  of  mental  dissipation^  which  will  un- 
fit you  for  more  methodical  literary  pursuits. 

A  cultivated  taste  in  Literature  and  Art,  as,  indeed, 
in  relation  to  all  the  embellishments  and  enjoyments 
©f  life,  is,  properly,  one  of  the  indications,  if  not  the 
legitimate  result,  of  thorough  mental  education.  But, 
while  you  seek,  by  every  means  within  your  control, 
to  enlarge  the  sphere  of  your  perceptions,  and  to 
elevate  your  standard  of  intellectual  pleasures,  care- 
fully avoid  all  semblance  of  conscious  superiority, 
all  dilettanti  pretension,  all  needless  technicalities 
of  artistic  language.  Remember  that  modesty  is  al- 
ways the  accompaniment  of  true  merit,  and  that  the 
smattering  of  knowledge,  which  the  condition  of  Art 
in  our  infant  Kepublic  alone  enables  its  most  de- 
voted disciples  to  acquire,  ill  justifies  display  and 
pretension,  in  this  respect.  So,  with  regard  to  mat- 
ters of  literary  criticism — enjoy  your  own  opinions, 
and  seek  to  base  them  upon  the  true  principles  of 
art ;  but  do  not  inflict  crudities  and  platitudes  upon 
others,  under  the  impression  that,  because  of  recent 
acquisition  to  a  tyro  in  years^  and  in  learning,  they 
are  likely  to  strike  mature  minds  with  the  charm  of 
novelty  1    Thus,  too,   with  scientific   lore.    If  Sii 


430  THE  AMERICAN  GENTLEMAn's  OXTIDE 

Isaac  ISTewton  onlj^  gathered  "  pebbles  on  the  shore  " 
of  the  limitless  ocean  of  knowledge,  we  may  well 
believe  that 

"  Wisdom  is  a  pearl,  with  most  success 

Sought  in  still  water." 

Let  me  add,  while  we  are,  incidentally,  upon  this 
matter  of  personal  pretension,  that  to  observing  per- 
sons such  a  manner  often  indicates  internal  distrust  of 
one's  just  claims  to  one's  social  position,  while,  on  the 
contrary,  quiet  self-possession,  ease  and  simplicity,  are 
equally  expressive  of  self-respect  and  of  an  entire  cei- 
tainty  of  the  tacit  admission  of  one's  rights  by  others. 
Nothing  is  more  underbred  than  the  habit  of  taking 
offense,  or  fancying  one's  self  slighted,  on  all  occa- 
sions. It  betokens  either  intense  egotism,  or,  as  I 
have  said,  distrust  of  your  rightful  ^position — that 
you  are  embittered  by  struggling  with  the  world — > 
neither  of  which  suppositions  should  be  betrayed  by 
the  bearing  of  a  man  of  the  world.  Maintain  out- 
ward serenity,  let  the  torrent  rage  as  it  may  within, 
and  nsver  allow  the  world  to  Icnow  its  power  to 
wound  you  through  your  undue  sensitiveness  ! 

Well  has  the  poet  asserted  that 

"  Truth's  a  discovery  made  by  travelled  min<fo." 

No  one  who  can  secure  the  advantage  of  seeing  life 
and  manners  in  every  varying  phase,  should  fail  to 
add  this  to  the  other  branches  of  a  polite  education. 
Do  not  imbibe  the  impression,  however,  that  merely 
going  abroad  is  i^(wellmg,  in  the  just  sense  of  the 
term. 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  431 

'*  Oft  has  it  been  my  lot  to  mark, 
A  proud,  conceited,  talking  spark, 
Returning  from  his  finished  tour, 
Grown  ten  times  perter  than  before. 
Whatever  word  you  chance  to  drop. 
The  travelled  fool  your  mouth  will  stop  :— 
'  Sir,  if  my  judgment  you'll  allow, 
I've  seen,  and  sure  /  ought  to  know !' 
So  begs  you'll  pay  a  due  submission, 
And  acquiesce  in  his  decision." 

Send  a  fool  to  visit  other  countries,  and  he  will 
return — only  a  "  travelled  fool !"  But  give  a  rightly- 
constituted  man  opportunities  for  thus  enriching  and 
expanding  his  intellectual  powers,  and  he  returns  to 
his  native  land,  especially  if  he  be  an  American,  a 
better  citizen,  a  more  enlightened,  discriminating 
companion  and  friend,  and  a  more  liberal,  useful, 
catholic  Christian ! 

Some  knowledge  of  modern  languages,  especially 
of  the  French,  has  now  become  an  essential  part  of 
education.  The  value  of  this  acquisition,  even  for 
home  use,  can  scarcely  be  over-estimated,  and  with- 
out a  familiarity  with  colloquial  French,  a  man  can 
hardly  hope  to  pass  muster  abroad.  I  will,  however, 
hazard  the  general  observation  that,  as  a  rule,  it  is 
better  to  acquire  a  thorough  knowledge  of  one  Icm- 
guage  (and  of  French,  pre-eminently,  for  practical 
availability)  than  a  slight  acquaintance  with  several. 
Few  persons,  comparatively,  in  our  active,  busy 
land,  have  leisure,  at  any  period  of  life,  for  familiar- 
izing themselves  with  the  literature  of  more  than 
one  language,  besides  their  own,  and  to  possess  the 


432 


mere  nomenclature  of  a  foreign  tongue  is  but  to 
have  the  hey  to  information.  There  is,  of  late,  a 
fashion  in  this  matter,  which  has  little  else  to  recom- 
mend it  than  that  it  is  the  fashion.  /  and  with  per- 
sons of  sense  and  intelligence  there  should  be  some 
more  powerful  and  satisfactory  motive  for  the  devo- 
tion of  any  considerable  portion  of  "  TimCy  natures 
stockP 

Ai^rojpos  of  this,  nothing  is  more  likely  to  teach  a 
true  estimate  of  the  'oalue  of  time  than  that  perfection 
of  education  pronounced  by  the  philosopher  of  old 
to  be  the  knowledge  that  we  Icnow  nothing!  In 
other  words,  they  only,  who  in  some  sort  discern,  by 
the  light  of  education,  the  vast  field  that  lies  unex- 
plored before  them,  can  have  any  adequate  concep- 
tion of  the  care  and  discrimination  with  which  they 
should  use  that  treasure  of  which  alone  it  is  ^avi/rtue 
to  he  covetous,^ 

Nothing,  perhaps,  more  unmistakably  indicates 
successful  self-culture  than  the  habitual  exhibition 
of  Tact.  It  may  almost  be  called  another  sense, 
growing  out  of  the  proper  training  of  the  several 
faculties  of  body  and  mind.  And  though  there  is  a 
vast  natural  difference  between  persons  of  similar  out- 
ward circumstances,  in  this  respect,  much  may  be 
effected  by  attention  and  practice,  in  the  acquisition 
of  this  invaluable  possession.  Like  self-possession,  tact 
is  one  of  the  essential,  distinctive  characteristics  of 
good-breeding — the  legitimate  expression  of  natural 
refinement,  quick  perceptions  and  kindly  sympathies. 
Cultivate  it,  then,  my  young  friends,  in  common 


TO   POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  4:33 

with  every  elegant  embellisliment  of  the  true  gentle- 
man! Do  not  confound  it  with  dissimulation  or 
hypocrisy,  nor  yet  regard  it  as  the  antagonist  of 
truthfulness,  self-respect  and  manly  dignity.  On 
the  contrary,  it  is  the  best  safeguard  of  courtesy,  as 
well  as  of  sensibility. 

Among  useful  methods  of  self-discipline,  let  me 
instance  the  benefit  resulting  from  the  early  adop- 
tion of  a  code  of  private  morality^  if  you  will  permit 
me  to  coin  a  phrase,  composed  of  rules  and  maxims 
adapted  to  your  own  personal  needs  and  peculiari- 
ties of  position  and  mental  constitution.  Washing- 
ton, I  remember,  adopted  this  practice,  and  Mr. 
Sparks,  or  some  one  of  his  biographers,  has  preserved 
the  record  from  oblivion.  It  is  many  years  since 
I  came  across  these  rules,  and  I  can  no  longer  recall 
more  than  the  fixed,  though  general,  impression  that 
they  embodied  much  practical  wisdom  and  clearly 
indicated  the  patient  spirit  of  self-improvement  for 
which  the  author  was  remarkable.  I  commend 
them  to  you  as  a  model.  Perhaps  the  immortal 
biographer  who  has  now  given  the  world  a  new  life 
of  his  great  namesake,  will  afford  you  the  means  of 
satisfying  yourselves  personally  of  the  correctness  of 
my  impressions  of  them. 

In  preparing  this  code  for  yourselves,  I  can  give 
you  no  better  guide  than  that  afforded  by  the  truth 
expressively  conveyed  in  the  following  lines : 

"  ^Tis  wisely  great  to  talk  with  our  past  hours. 
To  ask  them  what  report  they  bore  to  Heaven^ 
And  how  tJiey  might  have  borne  more  welcoms  n«iw," 
19 


434 


That  18  a  very  imperfect  conception  of  edacation 
which  limits  its  significance  to  hnowledge  gained 
from  looks.  A  profound  acquaintance  with  literary 
lore  is  often  associated  with  total  ignorance  of  the 
actual  world,  of  the  laws  that  govern  our  moral 
and  intellectual  being,  and  with  an  incapacity  to 
discern  the  Beautiful,  the  True,  the  Good.  They 
only  are  educated^  who  have  acquired  that  self-know- 
ledge and  self-discipline  which  inspire  a  disin- 
terested love  of  our  fellow-heings^  a  reverence  for 
Truth — ^in  the  largest  sense  of  the  term — and  the 
2>ower  of  hdbituallg  exalting  the  higher  faculties  over 
the  animal  propensities  of  our  nature. 

It  is  only,  therefore,  when  man  unites  moral  disci- 
pline with  intellectual  culture,  that  he  can  be  said  to 
be  truly  educated ;  and  the  most  ambitious  student 
of  books  should  always  bear  in  mind  the  truth  that 
WiQ  free  play  of  the  intellect  is  promoted  hy  the  devel- 
opment of  moral  perceptions^  and  that  mental 
education,  even,  does  not  so  much  consist  in  loading 
the  memory  with  facts,  as  in  strengthening  the 
capacity  for  independent  action — for  judging,  com- 
paring, reflecting. 

"  The  connection  between  moral  and  intellectual 
culture  is  often  overlooked,"  says  a  celebrated 
ethical  writer,  "  and  the  former  sacrificed  to  the 
latter.  The  exaltation  of  talent,  as  it  is  called,  above 
virtue  and  religion,  is  the  curse  of  the  age.  Educa- 
catiou  is  now  chiefly  a  stimulus  to  learning,  and 
thus  may  acquire  power  without  the  principles 
which  alone  make  it  a  good.    Talent  is  worshipped. 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  435 

but,  if  divorced  from  rectitude,  it  will  prove  more 
of  a  demon  than  a  god." 

Holding  the  opinion,  then,  that  a  fixed  religious 
belief  is  the  legitimate  result  of  a  thorough  cultiva- 
tion of  the  mental  and  moral  endowments,  and  that 
their  united  and  co-equal  development  constitutes 
education,  you  will  permit  me  to  impress  upon  your 
attention  the  importance  of  securing  all  the  aid 
afforded  by  the  lest  lights  vouchsafed  to  us,  in  the 
search  after  Truth.  Conscience  is  a  blind  guide, 
until  assisted  by  discriminating  teaching,  and  honest, 
persevering  endeavors  at  self-enlightenment.  For 
myself,  my  experience,  in  this  respect,  has  afforded 
me  no  assistance  so  reliable  and  efficient  as  that  to 
be  gathered  from  the  Life  of  Jesus  Christy  as  record- 
ed by  his  various  biographers,  and  collected  in  the 
ITew  Testament.  I  commend  its  study,  renewedly, 
to  you,  not  in  search  of  a  substantiation  of  human 
doctrines,  not  to  determine  the  accuracy  of  particu- 
lar creeds,  but  to  possess  yourself  of  simple,  intelli- 
gible, practicable  directions  for  the  wise  regulation 
of  your  daily  life,  and  those  ceaseless  efforts  at  self- 
advancement  which  should  be  the  highest  purpose  of 

"  A  being  breathing  thoughtful  breath, 
A  creature  between  life  and  death  V^ 

Accustomed  to  the  standard  established  by  Him 
who  said,  "  Be  ye,  therefore,  perfect,  even  as  I  am 
perfect,"  we  will  not  be  deterred  from  the  steadfast 
pursuit  of  right  by  the  imperfect  exhibitions,  so  fre- 


^36  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

quentlj  made,  of  its  efficacy,  in  the  lives  of  the  pro- 
fessed followers  of  the  wonderful  Nazarine.  Con- 
scious of  the  difficulties,  the  temptations  and  the 
discomfitures  that  we  ourselves  encounter,  we  will 
learn,  not  only  to  discriminate  between  the  imper- 
fections of  the  disciple  and  the  perfection  of  the 
Master,  but  to  exercise  that  charity  toward  others, 
of  which  self-examination  teaches  us  the  need,  in  our 
own  case.  Thus,  the  Golden  Eule,  which  so  inclu- 
sively epitomizes  the  moral  code  of  the  Great  Teacher, 
will  come  to  be  our  guide  in  determining  the  path 
of  practical  duty,  and  the  course  of  self- culture,  most 
essential  to  the  security  of  present  happiness,  and  as 
a  preparative  for  that  eternal  state  of  existence,  of 
which  this  is  but  the  embryo. 

Thus,  making  God  and  conscience — which  is  the 
voice  of  God  speaking  within  us — the  arbiter  be- 
tween our  better  nature  and  the  impulses  excited  by 
the  grosser  faculties,  we  shall  be  less  tempted  by 
outward  influences  to  lower  the  abstract  standard 
we  originally  establish,  or  to  reconcile  ourselves  to 
an  imperfect  conformity  to  its  requisitions.  Far  less, 
will  we  permit  ourselves  to  indulge  the  delusion  that 
we  are  not,  each  of  ns,  personally  obligated,  by  our 
moral  responsibilities,  to  develop  all  the  powers  with 
which  we  are  endowed^  to  their  'utmost  capacity  : — 

"  They  build  too  low  who  build  below  the  skies  I" 

The  most  perfect  of  human  beings  was  also  the 
most  humble  and  self  sacrificing,  so  that  they  who 
endeavor  to  follow  his  example  will  not  only  be  de* 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  43^ 

void  of  self-righteous  assumption,  but  actively  de- 
voted to  the  good  of  their  fellow-creatures,  and,  like 
Him,  pityingly  sensible  of  the  wants  and  the  woes 
of  humanity. 

That  reverence  for  the  spiritual  nature  of  man,  as 
a  direct  emanation  from  Deity,  which  all  should 
cherish,  is,  also,  to  be  regarded  as  a  part  of  judicious 
self-culture.  Cultivate  an  habitual  recognition  of 
your  celestial  attributes,  and  strive  to  elevate  your 
whole  being  into  congenial  association  with  the  di- 
vinity within  you  i^this  do  for  the  benefit  of  others, 

"  Be  noble !  and  the  nobleness  that  lies 
In  other  men,  sleeping,  but  never  dead, 
Will  rise,  in  majesty,  to  meet  thine  own !" 

With  SO  exalted  an  aim  as  I  have  proposed  for 
your  adoption,  you  will  be  slow  to  tolerate  peccadil- 
loes^ as  of  little  moment,  either  in  a  metaphysical  or 
ethical  point  of  view.  Dread  such  tolerance,  as  sap- 
ping the  foundations  of  principle ;  learn  to  detect  the 
insidious  poison  lurking  in  Burke's  celebrated  aphor- 
ism, and  in  the  infidel  philosophy  that  assumes  the 
brightest  semblances  that  genius  can  invent,  the  more 
readily  to  deceive.  Establish  fixed  principles  of 
benevolence,  justice,  truthfulness,  religious  belief, 
and  adhere  steadfastly  to  them,  despite  the  allure- 
ments of  the  world,  the  temptings  of  ambition,  or 
weariness  of  self-conflict. 

The  Pursuit  of  Haziness  is  but  concentrated 
phraseology  for  the  purposes  and  endeavors  of  every 
human  being.    May  you  early  learn  to  distinguish 


43S 


between  \hQ> false  and  the  true^hQtwQQn pleasure  and 
Tiajpj^iness^  early  know  your  duty  to  yourselves,  your 
country,  and  your  God  ! 

I  will  but  add  to  these  crude,  but  heart-engendered, 
observations,  a  few  lines,  embodying  my  own  senti- 
ments, and  in  a  form  much  more  impressive  than  J 
can  command : — 

"We  live  in  deeds,  not  years ;  in  thoughts,  not  breaths; 
In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  a  dial. 
"We  should  count  time  by  heart-throbs.    He  most  lives 
Who  thinks  mosty  feels  the  noblest^  acts  the  best^ 


I  have  somewhere  met  with  a  little  bagatelle, 
Bomewhat  like  this : — 

Apollo,  the  god  of  love,  of  music,  and  of  elo- 
quence, weary  of  the  changeless  brilliancy  of  Olym- 
pus, determined  to  descend  to  earth,  and  to  secure 
maintenance  and  fame,  in  the  guise  of  a  mortal,  by 
authorship.  Accordingly,  the  incognito  divinity  es- 
tablished himself  in  an  attic,  after  the  usual  fashion 
of  the  sons  of  genius,  and  commenced  inditing  a 
poem — a  long  epic  poem,  plying  his  pen  with  the  pa- 
tient industry  inspired  by  necessity,  the  best  stimu- 
lus of  human  effort.  At  length,  the  task  of  the  god 
completed,  he,  with  great  difficulty,  procured  the 
means  of  offering  it  to  the  world  in  printed  form. 
The  Epic  of  Apollo,  the  god  of  Poetry,  fell,  jpre* 
doomed,  from,  the  jpress.  No  commendatory  review 
had  been  secured,  no  fashionable  publisher  endorsed 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  439 

its  merits.  Disgusted  with  the  pursuit  of  the  wealth 
and  honors  of  earth,  Apollo  returned  to  Olympus, 
bequeathing  to  mortals,  this  advice : — "  Would  you 
secure  earthly  celebrity  and  riches^  do  not  atterrvpt  in- 
tellectual and  moral  culture^  hut  invent  a  pill  !" 


Instances  of  the  successful  ^pursuit  of  hnowledge 
under  difficulties  frequently  present  themselves  in 
our  contemporaneous  history,  both  in  our  own  coun- 
try and  in  foreign  lands.  Indeed,  the  history  of  the 
human  mind  goes  far  toward  proving  that,  not  the 
pampered  scions  of  rank  and  luxury,  but  the  hardy 
sons  of  poverty  and  toil,  have  been,  most  frequently, 
the  benefactors  of  the  race.  Well  has  the  poet  said : — > 

"  The  busy  world  shoves  angrily  aside 
The  man  who  stands  with  arms  a-kimbo  set, 
Until  occaeion  tell  him  what  to  do ; 
And  he  who  waits  to  have  his  task  marked  out, 
Shall  die,  and  leave  his  errand  unfulfilled." 

The  Learned  Blacksmith^  as  he  is  popularly  called, 
acquired  thirty,  or  more,  different  languages,  while 
daily  working  at  his  laborious  trade.  He  was  accus- 
tomed to  study  while  taking  his  meals,  and  to  have 
an  open  book  placed  upon  the  anvil,  while  he 
worked.  A  celebrated  physiological  writer,  alluding 
to  the  habits  of  this  persevering  devotee  of  philology, 
says,  that  nothing  but  his  uninterrupted  practice  of 
his  Yulcan-tasks  preserved  his  health  under  the  vast 
amount  of  mental  labor  he  imposed  upon  himself. 


440 


Another  of  our  distinguished  countrymen,  now  a 
prominent  popular  orator,  is  said  to  have  accumu- 
lated food  for  future  usefulness,  while  devoting  the 
energies  of  the  outer  man  to  the  employment  of  a 
wagoner^  amid  the  grand  scenic  influences  of  the 
majestic  Alleghanies.  The  early  life  of  Franklin,  of 
the  "  Mill-boy  of  the  Slashes,"  of  Webster,  and  of 
many  others  whose  names  have  become  watchwords 
among  us,  are,  doubtless,  familiar  to  you,  as  examples 
in  this  respect. 


Looking  upon  the  busy  active  woild  around  me, — 
as  I  sometimes  like  to  do — from  behind  the  screen  of 
my  newspaper,  seated  in  the  reading-room  of  a  hotel, 
I  became  the  auditor  of  the  following  conversation, 
between  two  young  men,  who  were  stationed  near  a 
window,  watching  the  passing  throng  of  a  crowded 
thoroughfare. 

"  By  George !  there's  Van  K ,"  exclaimed  one, 

with  unusual  animation. 

"Which  one, — where?"  eagerly  interrogated  his 
companion. 

"That's  he,  this  side,  with  the  Byronic  nose,  and 
short  steps — ^he's  great !  What  a  fellow  he  is  for 
making  money,  though !" 

"  Does  it  by  his  talents,  don't  he  ? — ^nobody  like 
him,  in  the  Bar  of  this  State,  for  genius, — that's  a 
fact — carries  everything  through  by  the  force  of 
/" 

"  Dev'lish  clever,  no  doubt,"  assented  the  other. 


TO   POLITENESS    A.ND   FASHION.  441 

"  but  he  need  to  study,  I  tell  you,  like  a  hero,  when 
he  was  younger." 

"  I^ever  heard  that  of  him,"  answered  the  other 
youth,  "how  the  deuce  could  he?  He  has  always 
been  a  man  about  town—rQdX  fashionable  fellow — 
practised  always,  since  he  was  admitted,  and  every- 
body knows  no  one  dines  out,  and  goes  to  parties 

with  more  of  a  rush  than  Yan  K ,  and  he  always 

has." 

"  That  may  all  be,  but  my  mother,  who  has  known 
him  well  for  years,  was  telling  me,  the  other  day, 
that  those  who  were  most  charmed  with  his  wit,  and 
belle-lettre  scholarship,  when  he  first  came  upon  the 
^<j^^5,  little  knew  the  pains  he  took  to  accomplish 
himself.  'He  exhibited  the  result^  not  the  machm' 
ery^  she  said,  but  he  did  study,  and  study  hard, 
when  other  young  fellows  were  asleep,  or  raising 
h 1" 

"  As  for  that,"  interrupted  the  other,  "  he  always 
did  his  full  share  of  all  the  deviltry  going,  or  I  am 
shrewdly  mistaken !" 

"  Kobody  surpasses  him  at  that,  any  more  than  at 
his  regular  trade,"  laughed  his  companion — "  oh,  but 
he's  rich !  Jim  Williams  was  telling  me  (Jim  studies 

with  S and  Yan  K — *-)  how  he  put  down  old 

S the  other  day.     It  seems  S had  been  laid 

on  the  shelf  with  a  tooth-ache — dev'lish  bad — ^face 
all  swelled  up — old  fellow  real  sick,  and  no  mistake. 
Well,  one  morning,  after  he'd  been  gone  several 
days,  he  managed  to  pull  up,  and  make  his  appear- 
ance at  the  office.    It  was  early— no  one  there  but 

19* 


44:2  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

Yan  K and  the  boys — Jim  and  the  rest  of  the  fel- 
lows—tearing away  at  the  books  and  papers.     So  old 

S dropped  down  in  an  arm-chair  by  the  stove, 

and  began  a  hifalutin  description  of  his  sorrows  and 
sufferings  while  he  had  been  sick — quite  in  the  *pile 
on  the  agony  '  style !  "Well,  just  as  the  old  boy  got 
fairly  warmed  up,  and  was  going  it  smoothly,  Yan 

K bawled  out : — *  Y-a-s  !     Mr.  S !  will  you 

have  time,  this  morning,  to  look  over  these  papers, 
in  the  case  of  Smith  against  Brown  V  Jim  said  he 
never  saw  an  old  rip  so  cut  down  in  all  his  life,  and, 
as  soon  as  he  went  out,  there  was  a  general  bust  up, 
at  his  expense  I" 

"How  confounded  heartless!"  exclaimed  the  elder 
youth,  rising — "  by  Heaven,  I  hope  a  man  needn't 
set  aside  the  common  sympathies  and  decencies  of 
humanity,  to  secure  success  in  his  profession,  or  in 
society  !"  and  as  he  passed  me,  I  caught  the  flush  of 
manly  indignation  that  mantled  his  beardless  cheek, 
and  the  lightning-flash  of  youthful  genius  that 
enkindled  his  large  blue  eyes. 


"  What  are  you  doing  there,  sir  ?"  inquired  one  of 
the  early  Presidents  of  our  Republic,  of  his  nephew, 
who  was  standing  before  an  open  writing-desk,  in  his 
private  apartment. 

"  Only  getting  some  paper  and  pencils,  sir,"  re- 
plied the  young  man. 

"That  stationary,  sir,  belongs  to  the  Federal  Gov- 
ernment 1"  returned  the  American  patriot,  impres- 


TO   POLITENESS  AND   FASHION.  44S 

sively,  and  sternly,  and  resumed  his  previous  occupa- 
tion. ^ 

Daniel  Webster,  in  conversation  with  a  familiar 
friend,  said : 

"  From  the  time  that,  at  my  mother's  feet,  or  on  my 
father's  knees,  I  first  learned  to  lisp  verses  from  the 
Sacred  Writings,  they  have  been  my  daily  study, 
and  vigilant  contemplation.  If  there  be  anything  in 
my  style  or  thoughts  worthy  to  be  commended,  the 
credit  is  due  to  my  kind  parents,  in  instilling  into 
my  early  mind  a  love  for  the  Scriptures." 


"  How  long  will  it  take  you,"  inquired  J^apoleon, 
of  the  young  brother-in-law  of  Junot,  "  to  acquaint 
yourself  with  the  Coptic  language,  and  be  prepared 
to  go  to  Egypt  on  a  secret  service  ?" 

"Three  months,  sire,"  replied  the  energetic 
Frenchman,  with  scarcely  a  perceptible  pause  for 
consideration. 

"  Bien  .^"  returned  the  great  Captain,  "  begin  at 
once."  And  he  moved  on  in  his  briefly-interrupted 
walk,  through  the  salon  of  the  beautiful  mother  of 
the  youth,  saying  to  the  Turkish  Ambassador,  who 
accompanied  his  stroll : — "  There  is  such  a  son  as 
one  might  expect  from  such  a  mother!" 

Three  months  from  that  night  there  left  the  pri- 
vate cabinet  of  E'apoleon,  a  stripling,  of  slight  form 
and  yet  unsunned  brow,  charged  by  him- who  Jcnew 
vien  'by  intuition^  with  a  task  of  fearful  risk  and  re- 


444  THE   AMERICAN 

sponsibility ;  and,  on  the  morrow,  he  was  embarked 
on  the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  speeding 
toward  a  land  where,  from  the  heights  of  the  Pyra- 
mids, a  thousand  years  would  behold  his  deeds  I 


"I  swear,  I'll  cut  that  woman!  I'll  never  call 
there  again,  that  I  am  determined!"  cried  Paul 
Duncan,  impetuously. 

"But  why,  brother?  Don't  judge  too  hastily," 
replied  his  sister,  gently.  "  The  whole  family  have 
always  been  so  kind  to  us ;  for  my  part,  I  think  one 
seldom  meets  persons  of  more  polished  manners, 
and" 

"Polished  manners!"  interrupted  the  irritable 
man,  rudely,  "  what  do  you  call  j)olished  manners  ? 
I  gave  up  E himself,  just  because  he  is  so  devil- 
ish ^m-polished,  long  ago.  He  passed  me,  once  or 
twice,  in  Wall-street,  with  his  head  down,  and  didn't 
even  bow !  after  that  I  let  him  run !" 

"  He  is  so  engrossed  in  his  philanthropic  schemes 
that,  I  suppose,  he  really  did  not  see  you,"  inter 
posed  his  sister,  mildly.  "But  the  ladies  are  not 
responsible  for  his  peccadilloes." 

"No,  they  cannot  answer  for  their  own,  to  me," 
retorted  the  other,  with  bitterness.  "  When  I  went 
in,  last  evening,  she  and  her  mother  were  both  in 
the  room.     The  old  lady  rose,  civilly  enough,  but 

Mrs.  R kept  her  seat,  partly  behind  a  table,  even 

when  I  went  to  her^  and  shook  hands." 

"Dear    brother,'^    expostulated    his    companion, 


TO   POLrrENESS  AND-  FASHION.  445 

"  don't  you  know  that  Mrs.  R is  not  well  ?     She 

has  not  been  out  in  months  " 

"What  the  devil,  then,  does  she  make  her  ap- 
pearance for,  if  she  can't  observe  the  comnaon  pro- 
prieties of  life  ?" 

"  I  doubt  whether  you  would  have  seen  her,  had 
she  not  been  in  the  room  when  you  entered.  Did 
she  remain  during  the  whole  time  of  your  call  ?" 

"  Certainly ;  but  the  old  woman  slipped  out,  when 
some  bustle  appeared  to  be  going  on  in  the  hall,  and 
never  made  her  appearance  again,  at  all,  only  sending 
in  a  servant,  just  as  I  was  going  away,  to  say  that  she 
*hoped  to  be  excused,  as  her  father  had  just  arrived.'  " 

"He  is  very  aged,  and  she  always  attends  upon 
him  herself,  when  he  is  there,  even  to  combing  his 
hair,"  explained  the  gentler  spirit.  "I  remember 
admiring  her  devotion  to  the  old  man,  who  is  very 
peculiar,  and  somewhat  disagreeable  to  persons  gen- 
erally, when  I  was  staying  there  a  day  or  two." 

"  Well,  well ;  what  has  that  to  do  with  her  treatment 
of  me  ?  Couldn't  she  trust  him  with  the  rest  of  the 
family  for  a  few  minutes  ?  There  is  a  tribe  of  women 
always  on  hand  there,  besides  a  retinue  of  servants." 

"  If  you  will  permit  me  to  say  so,  without  offense, 
Charley,"  returned  the  lady,  with  sudden  determina* 
tion  of  manner,  "I  fear  you  did  not  display  your 
usual  tact  on  the  occasion,  and  that  you,  perhaps, 
took  offense  at  circumstances  resulting  from  the  em- 
barrassment of  our  friends,  rather  than  from  any  in- 
tention to  be  impolite  to  you.  Ladies  are  not  always 
equally  well,  equally  self-possessed,  equally  in  com- 


446  THE  AMEEICA3T   GENTLEMAn's  GUIDE 

pany-mood,  or  company-dress.  I  don't  know  what 
might  not  befall  any  of  us,  were  we  not  judged  of, 
by  our  friends  rather  by  our  general  manner  to 
them,  than  by  any  little  peculiarities,  of  which  we 
may  be  ourselves  wholly  unconscious  at  the  time." 


If  you  are  as  much  impressed  as  I  was,  upon  first 
perusing  them,  with  the  following  sentences  from 
Sir  Humphrey  Davy's  pen,  you  will  require  no 
apology  from  me,  for  transcribing  them  here. 

"  1  envy  no  quality  of  mind  or  intellect  in  others 
— not  of  genius,  power,  wit,  or  fancy ;  but,  if  I  could 
choose  what  would  be  most  delightful,  and,  I  believe, 
most  useful,  to  me,  I  should  prefer  a  firm  religious 
helief^  to  every  other  blessing,  for  it  makes  life  a  dis- 
cipline of  goodness,  creates  new  hope,  when  earthly 
hopes  vanish,  and  throws  over  the  decay,  the  de- 
struction, of  existence,  the  most  gorgeous  of  all  light ; 
awakens  life,  even  in  death,  and,  from  decay,  calls 
up  beauty  and  divinity;  makes  an  instrument  of 
torture  and  shame  the  ladder  of  ascent  to  Paradise ; 
and,  far  above  all  combination  of  earthly  hopes,  calls 
up  the  most  delightful  visions — palms  and  ama- 
ranths, the  gardens  of  the  blessed,  the  security  of 
everlasting  joys,  where  the  sensualist  and  the  skep- 
tic view  only  gloom,  decay,  and  annihilation." 

With  these  sublime  words,  my  dear  nephews,  1 
bid  you,  affectionately. 

Adieu ! 

Henky  Lunettes. 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  447 


LETTER  XII. 

choice  of  companions  and  feiends — selection  of  a 
pursuit  in  life courtship marriage house- 
keeping— pecuniary  matters,  etc. 

My  dear  ITephews  : 

I  THINK  it  was  Burke  who  said  that  those 
who  desire  to  improve,  should  always  choose,  as 
companions,  persons  of  more  knowledge  and  virtue 
.hau  themselves.  He  had,  however,  the  happy 
faculty  of  eliciting  information  from  all  with  whom 
he  came  in  contact,  even  as  the  bee  extracts  sweet- 
ness from  the  most  insignificant  and  unattractive 
flower.  It  is  said  of  him,  you  are  aware,  that  he 
never  took  refuge  under  a  projecting  eave  for  five 
minutes,  to  escape  a  shower,  with  another  man, 
without  either  giving  or  receiving  instruction. 

His  excellent  habit  in  this  respect,  nevertheless,  in 
no  degree  invalidated  the  practical  wisdom  of  the 
remark  I  have  ascribed  to  this  celebrated  statesman. 
It  is  not  easy  to  attach  too  much  importance  to  the 
choice  of  Companions  and  Friends^  especially  dur- 
ing that  period  of  life  when  we  are  most  susceptible 
to  outward  influences. 

Much  enjoyment  is  derived  from  association  witli 


44:8  THE  AMEKIOAN  GENTLEMAn's  GUIDE 

those  whose  tastes,  pursuits,  and  sentiments  are 
similar  to  our  own ;  but,  in  making  a  selection  in 
this  respect,  it  is  better  to  seek  the  companionship 
of  persons  whose  influence  will  have  the  effect  to 
elevate  rather  than  to  depress  our  own  mental  and 
moral  standard.  Hence,  young  pereons  will  be 
most  improved  by  the  example  of  those  whose 
greater  maturity  of  years  and  acquirement  give 
them  the  advantage  of  experience. 

Byron  and  others  of  the  morbid  school  to  which 
he  belonged,  or  rather,  perhaps,  which  he  origi- 
nated, strove  to  establish  as  a  truth,  the  libellous 
charge  that  humanity  is  incapable  of  true,  disinte- 
rested friendship.  Happily  for  the  dignity  and 
healthfulness  of  the  youthful  mind,  this  affected 
misanthropy,  having  had  its  day,  is  dying  the 
natural  death  to  which  error  is  doomed,  and  we 
are  again  permitted  to  respect  our  common  nature 
without  wholly  renouncing  our  claims  to  poetic 
sensibility ! 

It  seems,  to  my  poor  perceptions,  that  there  needs 
no  better  test  of  the  capacities  of  our  fellow-crea- 
tures, with  regard  to  the  nobler  sentiments,  than 
0117'  own  self -consciousness  !  If  we  know  ourselves 
capable  of  lofty  aspirations,  of  self-sacrifice  for 
others'  good,  of  rejoicing  in  the  happiness  of  our 
friends,  of  deep,  enduring  affection  for  them,  by 
what  arrogant  right  shall  we  assume  ourselves 
superior  to  the  race  to  which  we  belong  ? 

As  the  man  who  habitually  rails  at  the  gentler 
Bex  must,  necessarily,  have  been  peculiarly  unfor* 
tunate  in  his  ea/rliest  associations  with  woman,  so  ho 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   FASHION.  449 

who  professes  a  disbelief  in  true  friendship,  may  be 
presumed,  not  only  to  have  chosen  his  associates 
unwisely,  but  to  be  himself  ill-constituted  and 
ill-disciplined.    If 

"  Virtue  is  more  than  a  shade  or  a  sound, 

And  man  may  her  voice,  in  this  being,  obey," 

then  is  friendship  one  of  the  purest  and  highest 
sources  of  human  enjoyment ! 

Eschew,  then,  the  debasing,  soul-restraining  max- 
ims of  Byron,  Rochefoucauld,  and  their  imitators, 
and  seek  in  communion  with  the  gifted  and  the 
good,  elevated  enjoyment  and  inspiring  incentives 
to  noble  purposes  and  manly  achievements. 

But  if  the  old  Spanish  proverb,  ''Show  me  yowr 
friends  and  I  will  tell  you  what  you  a/re,^^  is 
applicable  to  the  selection  of  ordinary  associates,  of 
how  much  more  significance  is  it  in  relation  to 
confidants  !  To  require  such  a  friend,  pre-supposes 
the  need  of  advice^  and  only  superiority  in  age  and 
knowledge  of  the  world  and  of  the  human  heart, 
can  qualify  any  one  for  the  responsibility  thus 
assumed.  Nothing  is  moriB  frequently  volunteered 
by  the  inexperienced  than  advice,  while  they  who 
properly  appreciate  its  importance  are  the  least 
likely  to  give  it  unasked. 

In  connection  with  the  subject  of  confidences  and 
confidants,  ponder  well  the  concentrated  wisdom 
contained  in  this  brief  sentence :  "  Be  careful  of 
whom  you  speak^  to  whom  you  speak^  and  how^  and 
when,  and  where^ 

If  from    self-consciousness  we  draw  conclusivo 


450  THE   AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

proofs  of  the  elevated  powers  of  our  nature^  we  also 
learn,  with  equal  certainty,  the  need  that  all  have 
of  forbearance,  lenity,  and  forgiveness.  They  who 
look  for  perfection  in  human  companions,  will  entail 
upon  themselves  a  life-long  solitude  of  spirit.  Some 
one  has  prettily  said  that  the  fault  of  a  friend  is  like 
a  flaw  in  a  beautiful  china  vase ;  the  defect  is  reme- 
diless ;  let  us  overlook  it,  and  dwell  only  upon  what 
will  give  us  pleasure. 

It  is  almost  useless  to  attempt  to  give  you  any 
advice  with  respect  to  the  choice  of  an  occupation  in 
life.  I  trust,  however,  that  you  need  no  argument  to 
convince  you  that  respectability  and  happiness  unit- 
edly require,  let  your  pecuniary  circumstances  be 
what  they  may,  that  you  should  have  such  an  incen- 
tive to  the  due  exercise  of  your  powers  of  body 
and  mind. 

1^0  consideration  is,  perhaps,  more  important  than 
that  oi  following  the  natural  inclination  in  making 
this  decision,  provided  outward  circumstances  ren- 
der it  possible  to  do  so  ;  and  in  this  country  a  man 
may  almost  always  overcome  obstacles  of  this  kind, 
by  patient  perseverance. 

The  impression,  formerly  so  prevalent,  that  none 
but  the  three  learned  professions,  as  they  are  called, 
require  a  thorough  education,  as  a  prelude,  is,  I  must 
believe,  much  less  generally  entertained,  than  when 
I  was  a  young  man.  And  this  is  as  it  should  be. 
There  can  be  no  human  employment  that  is  not  faci- 
litated by  the  aid  of  a  cultivated,  disciplined  intel- 
lect, and  our  young  countrymen,  who  so  frequently 
make  some  temporary  and  lucrative  occupation  the 


T3  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  451 

jstepping-stone  to  advancement,  should  always  bear 
this  in  mind.  One  day,  America,  like  Venice  of 
old,  will  be  a  land  of  merchant  princes — but  none 
will  take  rank  among  these  self-elevated  patricians 
but  they  who  add  the  polish,  the  refinement  and  the 
wealth  of  intellect,  to  the  power  derived  from  exter- 
nal circumstances. 

The  Physical  Sciences  and  the  Inventive  and  Prac- 
tical Arts  are  claiming  the  attention  of  our  times  to 
a  degree  never  before  known ;  and  these  afford  new 
and  sufiicient  avenues  for  the  exercise  of  talents  tend- 
ing rather  to  mechanical  than  to  metaphysical  exer- 
tion. 

Eemember,  always,  that  a  man  may  give  dignity 
to  any  honest  employment  to  which  he  shall  devote 
his  energies — and  better  so,  than  to  possess  no  claims 
to  respect  except  those  bestowed  by  position.  As 
the  pursuit  of  wealth  as  an  end,  rather  than  a  means, 
is  not  the  noblest  of  human  purposes,  so  mere  occupa- 
tion and  external  belongings  do  not  determine  the 
real  worth  of  mind  or  character. 

"  I  am  brother  to  the  Worker, 

And  I  love  his  manly  look, 
As  I  love  a  thought  of  beauty, 

Living,  star-like,  in  a  book. 
I  am  brother  to  the  humblest, 

In  the  world's  red-handed  strife, — 
Those  who  wield  the  sword  of  labor, 

In  the  battle  ranks  of  life ! 


Never  let  the  worker  falter, 
Nor  his  cause— for  hope  is  strong ; 


452 


He  shall  live  a  monarch  glorious 

In  the  people's  coming  throng. 
There's  a  sound  comes  from  the  future, 

Like  the  sound  of  many  lays  ; 
Freedom  strikes  her  harp  for  toilers^ 

Loud  as  when  the  thunder  plays  I" 

While   on  this  subject,  permit  me  to  call  your 
attention  to  a  matter  which,  though  of  minor  import- 
ance, is  not  unworthy  of  consideration.     Men  with 
but  little  knowledge  of  the  world  are  apt  to  hetray 
thei/r  occupation  hy  their  manner  a/ad  conversation — 
to  smell  of  the  shop^  as  it  is  often,  somewhat  coarsely, 
expressed.     Thus,  an  artist  will  talk  habitually  of 
such  matters  as  arrest  the  peculiar  perceptions  he 
has  quickened  into  acuteness  by  culture,  and  even 
use  the  technicalities   of  language   which,   though 
familiar  to  him,  may  be,  and  probably  are,  unintel- 
ligible to  persons  of  general  cultivation  only.     A 
physician  will  sometimes  go  about  with  a  heavy, 
ivory-headed   cane,   and    a    grand,   pompous  look, 
which  may,  perchance,  be  professional^  but  it  is  not 
the  less  absurd,  unless  as  a  means  of  impressing  the 
vulgar ;  and  he  often  falls  into  the  impression  that 
any  sacrifice  to  the  Graces,  or  any  regard  for  the 
weaknesses  of  humanity,  when  in  a  sick-room,  are 
entirely  beneath  his   dignity.      Lawyers  will   use 
Latin  phrases,  and  legal  technicalities,  in  the  soci- 
ety of  ladies,  and  the  gentlemen  of  the  hlach  cloth 
not  only  carry  the  pulpit  into  the  drawing-room,  but 
permit  themselves  to  be  lionized  by  devout  old  wo- 
men, and  sentimental  young  ones,  into  the  best  seat 
in  an  apartment,  or  a  carriage,  the  tit-bits  at  table, 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  453 

and  a  sum-total  of  mawkish  man-worship.  As  I 
have  said,  all  this  savors  of  ignorance  of  the  world^ 
as  it  does  of  latent  egotism,  and  deficient  self-respect. 
"Note,  therefore,  the  probable  effects — when  unre- 
st'-ained  by  self-scrutinj — of  moving  in  a  limited 
sphere  of  action^  and  always  bear  in  mind  that  your 
individual  occupations  and  interests,  though  of  great 
personal  importance,  are  comparatively  insignificant 
in  the  consideration  of  others;  that  you  yourself 
make,  when  viewed  from  a  general  stand-point,  but 
a  single  unit  of  the  great  mass  to  whom  your  inte- 
rests, purposes,  and  merits,  are  matters  alike  of  pro- 
found indifference  and  unquestioning  ignorance. 

"  JN'o  man,"  says  Jean  Paul,  the  only  one^  as  the 
Germans  call  him,  "  can  live  piously  or  die  righte- 
ously without  a  wife ;"  and  one  of  the  most  celebra- 
ted observers  of  human  nature  among  our  own  coun- 
trymen, has  bequeathed  us  the  recorded  opinion  that 
an  early  marriage  with  an  amiable  and  virtuous  wo- 
man is,  next  to  a  firm  religious  faith,  the  best  safe- 
guard to  the  happiness  and  principles  of  a  young 
man. 

In  our  prosperous  land,  where  the  means  of  living 
are  diversified  almost  equally  with  the  necessities  of 
life,  it  is  far  less  hazardous  to  assume  the  responsi- 
bilities arising  from  early  marriage,  than  in  other 
countries.  Everything  is,  in  a  certain  sense,  preco- 
cious here.  Extreme  youth  is  no  barrier  to  indepen- 
dence of  effort  and  position — ^none  to  self-reliance 
and  success.  It  may  be  questioned  whether  the  tax 
thus  prematurely  imposed  upon  the  intellect,  as  well 
»8  the  physique,  does  not,  in  some  degree,  lend,  not 


^S4: 


only  to  eventual  mediocrity  of  power,  but  to  quick- 
ened diminution  of  the  vital  energies. 

Hence  it  is,  doubtless,  well  to  adopt  the  golden 
mean  in  regard  to  every  important  step  in  life.  And 
though  I  would  by  no  means  counsel  you  not  to 
marry  until  you  have  accumulated  a  fortune,  I  would 
strenuously  advise  you  to  possess  yourselves  of  some- 
thing like  a  prospective  certainty  of  maintenance, 
and  of  sound  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  of 
yourself,  before  so  far  committing  your  future  hap- 
piness. 

One  prominent  cause  of  the  multitude  of  unhappy 
unions,  I  am  persuaded,  is  the  ignorance  of  their 
own  true  characters  with  which  young  persons  are 
so  frequently  united.  Wholly  immature  in  body 
and  mind,  when  they  commence  married  life,  as  they 
develop,  under  the  influence  of  time  and  circum- 
stance, they  awaken  to  the  discovery  of  an  irrecon- 
cilable difference,  not  only  in  taste,  sentiment,  and 
opinion,  but,  what  is  worse,  in  principle.  This  is 
one  extreme.  On  the  contrary,  the  marriage  of  per- 
sons of  decided  character,  before  habit  has  rendered 
it  diJ05cult  to  mould  themselves  into  conformity  with 
the  peculiarities  from  which  none  are  exempt,  is  de- 
sirable. The  sooner  those  who  are  to  tread  the  path 
of  life  side  by  side,  learn  the  assimilation  that  shall 
render  the  way  smoother  and  easier  to  both,  the 
greater  will  be  their  share  of  earthly  contentment ; 
and  this  will  be  most  readily  achieved,  no  doubt, 
while  youthful  pliancy  and  adaptability  still  exist. 

Every  discriminating,  self-informed  man,  should 
be  the  best  judge  of  the  essential  requisites  for 


TO   POLITENE88   AND   FASHION.  455 

domestic  liappiness,  in  his  individual  case.  Such  an 
one  will  not  need  t.o  be  reminded  that  all  abstract  or 
generally-applicable  rules  must  needs  be  modified,  in 
many  instances,  for  personal  usefulness.  But  no  one 
will  question  the  desirableness  of  healthy  good  temjpery 
and  education^  in  the  companion  of  domestic  life. 

By  education,  I  do  not  mean  an  acquaintance  with 
all,  or  even  with  any  one,  of  what  are  termed  accom- 
piishments.  A  woman  may  be  well-informed,  and 
self-disciplined,  to  a  degree  that  will  render  her  an 
admirable  wife  for  a  man  of  sense,  without  being 
able  to  speak  any  but  her  vernacular  tongue,  or  play 
upon  any  instrument,  save  that  har^  of  a  thousand 
strings — the  Human  Heart ! 

Do  not  understand  me  as  undervaluing  the  grace- 
ful embellishments  of  social  and  domestic  life,  as 
presented  by  the  lovelier  part  of  creation.  I  wish 
only  to  express,  in  my  plain,  blunt  way,  the  convic- 
tion that  the  most  elegant  and  varied  accomplish- 
ments are  a  very  poor  equivalent  iov  poverty  of  th6 
head  and  hearty  in  the  woman  who  is  to  become  the 
friend  and  counsellor  to  whom  you  will  look  for 
enduring,  discriminating  affection  and  sympathy,  as 
well  when  the  trials,  the  cares,  and  the  sorrows  of 
mortal  existence  shall  lower  heavily  over  you,  as 
while  you  mutually  dance  along  amid  the  flowers 
and  the  sunshine  of  youth. 

A  career  of  fashionable  idleness,  irresponsibility, 
and  dissipation,  is  not  a  desirable  prelude  to  the  sys- 
tematic routine  of  quiet  duties  essential  to  the  home- 
happiness    of  a  man  of   moderate    resources    and 


456  THE  AMERICAN  GENTLEMAn's  GXJTDTH 

retired  habits.  It  may  be  questioned  whether  a 
woman  who  has  been  long  accustomed  to  the  adula- 
tion and  the  excitement  of  a  crowd,  will  be  content 
to  find  enjoyment,  sufficient  and  enduring,  in  the 
simple  pleasures  Vhich  alone  will  be  at  her  com- 
mand, thus  circumstanced. 

But,  while  even  the  incentives  afforded  by  all  the 
affection  of  which  such  an  ephemeral  being  is 
capable,  will  render  conformity  to  this  new  position 
difficult  of  attainment,  she  who  is  early  accustomed 
to  look  thoughtfully  upon  life  as  beautiful  and 
bright  indeed,  but  as  involving  serious  responsibili- 
ties and  solemn  obligations,  will  bring  to  a  union 
with  one  of  similar  perceptions  and  principles,  a 
sense  of  right  and  duty,  which,  if  strengthened  by  a 
commingling  of  hearts,  will  make  it  no  discourag- 
ing task  to  her  to  begin  with  her  husband  wh^ere  he 
begins.  Such  an  one  will  be  content  to  tread  on  at 
an  even  pace  beside  him,  through  the  roughness  that 
may  beset  his  progress,  cheerfully  encountering 
obstacles,  resolute  to  conquer  or  endure,  as  the  case 
may  be ;  and  ever  fully  imbued  with  that  patient, 
hopeful,  loving  spirit,  whose  motto  is  "bear  one 
another's  burdens." 

You  will  think  it  more  consistent  with  the  caution 
of  an  old  man,  than  the  ardor  natural  to  a  young  one, 
that  I  should  advise  you  to  pay  proper  respect  to 
the  claims  of  the  relations  or  guardians  of  any  lady 
to  whom  you  wish  to  pay  your  addresses.  I  will, 
nevertheless,  venture  to  assert  that,  for  many  reasons, 
you  will,  in  after  life,  have  reason  to  congratulate 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FAfeHION.  457 

yourself  upon  pursuing  a  manly,  open,  honorable 
course  in  relation  to  every  feature  of  this  important 
era  in  your  career. 

A  friendship  with  a  woman  considerably  older 
than  himself  (if  she  be  married,  it  will  be  all  the  bet- 
ter) and  especially  if  he  have  not  older  sisters,  or  is 
separated  from  them,  is  of  incalculable  advantage  to 
a  young  man,  when  based  upon  true  principles  of 
thought  and  action, — not  only  in-  relation  to  subjects 
especially  pertaining  to  affairs  of  the  heart,  but 
respecting  a  thousand  nameless  practical  matters,  as 
well  as  of  mental  culture,  taste,  sentiment,  and  con- 
ventional proprieties.  Such  a  female  friend — ma- 
tured by  the  advantages  of  nature  and  circumstances 
— will  secure  you  present  enjoyment  of  an  elevated 
character,  together  with  constant  benefit  and  im- 
provement, and  expect  from  you,  in  return  for  the 
great  good  she  renders  you,  only  those  graceful  cour- 
tesies and  attentions  which  a  man  of  true  good-breed- 
ing always  regards  as  equally  obligatory  and  agree- 
able. 

Let  there  be,  however,  a  certain  gravity  mingled 
with  the  manifestations  of  regard  you  exhibit 
towards  all  married  women,  the  dominance  of  respect 
in  your  manner  towards  them,  and  never  permit  any 
consideration  to  induce  you  to  forget  the  established 
right  of  every  husband  to  sanction  or  not,  at  his 
pleasure,  the  most  abstractly  unexceptionable  friend- 
ship between  his  wife  and  another  man. 

Every  man  with  a  nice  sense  of  honor,  will  indi- 
cate, by  his  prevailing  bearing  and  language  towards 

20 


458 


women  a  felt  distinction  between  the  intentions  of 
friendship,  and  those  of  a  suitor  or  lover.  And  while 
he  observes  towards  all  women,  and  under  all  cir- 
cumstances, the  respectful  courtesy  due  to  them,  he 
will  not  hesitate  to  make  his  purpose  intelligible, 
where  he  has  conceived  sufficient  esteem  to  engender 
matrimonial  intentions.  Proper  self-respect,  as  well 
as  the  consideration  due  to  a  lady  and  her  friends, 
demands  this. 

I  repeat,  that  no  degree  of  devotion  to  one, 
excuses  incivility  to  other  female  acquaintances  in 
society;  and  I  will  add  that  the  most  acceptable 
attentions  to  a  woman  of  sense  and  delicacy,  are 
not  those  that  render  her  generally  conspicuous,  but 
such  as  express  an  ever-present  remembrance  of 
her  comfort  and  a  quick  discernment  of  her  real 
feelings  and  wishes. 

So  in  the  matter  of  presents,  and  similar  expres- 
sions of  politeness,  good  taste  will  dictate  no  lavish 
expenditure,  unwarranted  by  pecuniary  resources, 
and  inconsistent  with  the  general  surroundings  of 
either  party,  but  rather  a  prevailing  harmony  that 
will  be  really  a  juster  tribute  to  the  object  of  your 
regard,  as  well  as  a  more  creditable  proof  of  your 
own  tact  and  judgment.  All  compliments,  whether 
thus  expressed,  or  by  word  of  mouth,  should  be 
characterized  by  delicate  discrimination  and  puncti- 
lious respect.  It  is  said  that  women  judge  of 
character  by  details :  certain  it  is  that  what  may 
seem  trifles  to  us,  often  sensibly  influence  their 
opinions  of  men.     Their  perceptions  are  so  keen, 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  459 

their  sensibilities  so  acute,  in  comparison  with  ours, 
that  we  would  err  materially  in  estimating  them  by 
the  same  gauge  we  apply  to  each  other,  and  thus 
the  mysteries  of  the  female  heart  will  always  remain 
in  a  degree  insoluble,  even  to  the  acutest  masculine 
penetration. 

But  though  the  nicest  shades  of  sentiment  and 
feeling  may  escape  our  coarser  perceptions,  we  need 
no  unusual  discernment  to  perceive  the  effects  of 
kindness,  gentleness,  and  forbearance  in  our  domes- 
tic relations.  "  I  cannot  much  esteem  the  man," 
Eowland  Hill  remarked,  "whose  wife,  children,  and 
servants,  and  even  the  cat  and  dog,  are  not  sensibly 
happier  for  his  presence."  Depend  upon  it,  no 
fabled  Genii  could  confer  on  you  a  talisman  so 
effective  as  the  power  bestowed  by  the  enshrinement 
in  your  heart  of  the  Law  of  Kindness.  In  proportion 
to  the  delicacy  of  woman's  organization  is  her  sus- 
ceptibility to  such  influence,  and  he  who  carelessly 
outrages  the  exquisite  sensibilities  that  make  the 
peculiar  charm  of  her  nature,  will  too  often  learn, 
when  the  lesson  brings  with  it  only  the  bitterness 
of  experience, 

"  how  light  a  cause 

May  move  dissension  between  hearts  that  love." 

Shun,  then,  as  you  would  the  introduction  into  your 
physical  system  of  an  insidious  but  irradicablo 
poison, 

"  The  first  slight  swerving  of  the  hearty 
That  words  are  powerless  to  express  /** 

But  while  you  seek  to  illustrate  your  constant 


460 


remembrance  that  you  have,  by  the  act  of  marriage, 
"bound  yourself  to  be  good-humored,  affable,  dis- 
creet, forgiving,  patient,  and  joyful,  with  respect  to 
frailties  and  imperfections  to  the  end  of  life,"  bear  in 
mind,  also,  that  your  influence  over  another  imposes 
duties  of  various  kinds  upon  you,  and  that  you 
should  use  that  influence  with  far-sighted  wisdom, 
to  produce  the  greatest  ultimate  good.  Thus  you 
will  be  convinced  that  it  is  the  truest  kindness  to 
minister  to  the  intellect  and  the  affections  of  woman, 
rather  than  to  her  vanity,  and  that  in  proportion  as 
you  assist  her  to  exalt  her  'higher  nature  into 
dominance,  will  you  be  rewarded  by  a  spirit-union 
commensurate  to  the  most  exalted  necessities  of 
your  own. 

I  have  known  men,  in  my  time,  who  seemed  to 
have  a  fixed  belief  that  all  manifestations  of  the 
gentler  instincts  of  humanity  are  unworthy  of 'the 
dignity  of  manhood,  and  who,  by  habitually  repress- 
ing all  exhibitions  of  natural  emotion,  had  appa- 
rently succeeded  in  steeling  their  hearts,  as  well 
against  all  softening  external  impressions  as  to  the 
inspiration  of  the  "  still,  sad  music  of "  their  bet- 
ter selves.  All  elevated  emotions,  whether  of  an 
aftectionate  or  religious  character,  are  too  sacred  for 
general  observance  ;  "  When  thou  prayest,  enter  into 
thy  closet  and  shut  the  door^''  was  the  direction  of 
our  great  Teacher,  and  so  with  the  religion  of  the 
heart  (if  you  will  permit  me  the  phrase),  it  would 
be  desecrated,  were  it  possible — which  from  its  very 
nature  it  is  not — to  parade  its  outward  tokens  to 
indifferent  eyes.    And  yet  I  retui-n  to  a  prior  stand 


rO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  4fil 

point  and  insist  that  there  is  a  middle-ground,  even 
here,  the  juste  milieuy  as  the  French  say. — Apropos 
— the  ancient  Homans  used  the  same  word  to  desig- 
nate family  affection  and  jpiety. 

Intimately  connected  with  the  happiness  of  domes- 
tic  life  is  the  due  consideration  oi  pecuniary  affairs. 

But,  before  we  proceed  to  their  discussion,  let  me, 
as  long  a  somewhat  scrutinizing  observer  of  the 
varying  phases  of  social  life,  in  our  own  country 
especially,  enter  my  earnest  protest  against  the  prac- 
tice so  commonly  adopted  by  newly-married  persons, 
of  hoarding^  in  place  of  at  once  establishing  foi 
themselves  the  distinctive  and  ennobling  preroga 
lives  of  HOME.  Language  and  time  would  alike  fail 
me  in  an  endeavor  to  set  forth  the  manifold  evils 
inevitably  growing  out  of  this  fashionable  system. 
Take  the  advice  of  an  old  man,  who  has  tested  theo- 
ries by  prolonged  experience,  and  at  once  establish 
your  Penates  within  four  walls,  and  under  a  roof 
that  will,  at  times,  exclude  all  who  are  not  properly 
denizens  of  your  household,  upon  assuming  the 
rights  and  obligations  of  married  life.  Do  not  be 
deterred  from  this  step  by  the  conviction  that  you 
cannot  shrine  your  home-deities  upon  pedestals  of 
marble.  Cover  their  hases  with  flowers — God's  free 
gift  to  all — and  the  plainest  support  will  suffice  for 
them,  if  it  be  'hw.tfirm. 

With  right  views  of  the  true  aims  and  enjoyments 
of  life,  it  will  be  no  impossible  achievement  to  esta- 
blish your  household  appointments  within  the  limits 
of  your  income,  whatever  that  may  be,  and  to  enter- 
tain the  conviction  that  the  duty  of  providing  for 


462  THE  AMERICAN  GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

possible,  if  not  probable,  future  contingencies,  is  im- 
perative with  those  who  have  assumed  conjugal  and 
paternal  responsibilities. 

Firm  adherence  to  such  a  system  of  living  will 
bring  with  it  a  thousand  collateral  pleasures  and 
privileges,  and  secure  the  only  true  independence. 
Nothing  is  more  unworthy  than  the  sacrifice  of 
genuine  hospitality,  taste,  and  refinement,  to  the 
requisitions  of  mere  fashion,  in  such  arrangements ; 
no  thraldom  so  degrading  as  that  imposed  by  the 
union  of  poverty  and  false  pride.  What  latent  ego- 
tism, too,  in  the  pre-supposed  idea  that  the  world  at 
large  takes  careful  cognizance  of  the  individualizing 
specialities  of  any  man,  save  when  he  trenches  on 
the  reserved  rights  of  others. 

True  self-respect,  then,  as  well  as  enlarged  percep- 
tions of  real  life,  will  dictate  a  judicious  adjustment 
of  means  to  desired  results,  and  teach  the  willing 
adoption  of  safe  moderation  in  all. 

Happily,  comfort  and  refinement  may  be  secured 
without  ruinous  expenditure,  even  by  the  most  mo- 
dest beginners  in  housekeeping.  Industry,  ingenuity 
and  taste,  will  lend  embellishment  to  the  simplest 
home,  and  the  young,  at  least,  can  well  afford  to  dis- 
pense with  enervating  luxury  and  pretentious  dis- 
play. 

With  due  deference  to  individual  taste,  I  would 
commend  the  cultivation  and  gratification  of  a  love 
of  hoohs  and  works  of  art^  in  preference  to  the  pur- 
chase of  costly  furniture,  mirrors,  and  the  like. 
Fine  prints  (which  are  preferable  to  indifferent  paint- 
ings) are  now  within  obtainable  reach,  by  many  who 


TO   POLH'ENESS   AND   FASHION.  463 

permit  themselves  few  indulgences,  comparatively, 
and  everything  having  a  tendency  to  foster  the 
sesthetical  perceptions  and  enjoyments  of  children, 
and  to  exalt  these  gratifications  into  habitual  supre- 
macy over  the  grosser  pleasures  of  sense,  or  the  exhi- 
bitions of  vanity,  is  worthy  of  regard.  And  as  no 
avoidable  demands  of  the  outer  life  should  be  per- 
mitted to  diminish  the  resources  of  either  the  heart 
or  the  mind,  well-selected  hooks  will  take  high  rank 
among  the  belongings  of  a  well-appointed  house. 

To  sum  up  all,  my  dear  friends,  if  you  aim  at 
rational  happiness,  let  there  be  what  is  artistically 
termed  keeping  in  your  whole  system  of  life.  Let 
your  style  of  dress,  your  mode  of  housekeeping,  and 
entertaining,  your  relaxations,  amusements,  occupa- 
tions, and  resources,  be  harmoniously  combined. 


"Where  and  how  is  the  most  charming  of  Jew- 
esses ?"  1  asked  one  morning  of  an  old  friend,  upon 
whom  I  had  been  making  an  unreasonably  early  call, 
rising  to  go. 

"  Here,  sir,  and  very  well,"  responded  a  cheerful 
voice  from  an  adjoining  room.  "  Will  you  not  come 
in  a  moment  ?" 

The  smiling  "  home-mother"  opened  wide  the  half- 
open  door  through  which  my  queries  had  been  an- 
swered, and  seconded  her  daughter's  invitation. 

There  sat  my  fair  young  friend,  with  a  small  tabla 
before  her,  covered  with  sewing  materials,  and  a 
huge  overcoat  upon  her  lap.    She  was  in  a  simple, 


464  THE   AMERICAN   GENTI.EMAn's   QXJTDE 

neat  morning-dress,  and  plying  the  needle  with  great 
industry.  She  apologized  for  not  rising  to  receive 
me,  but  not  for  continuing  her  occupation  after  I 
seated  myself. 

"  As  busily  engaged  as  ever,  I  see,"  said  I. 

"  Hather  more  so  than  usual,  just  now.  Fred  has 
come  home  in  a  very  dilapidated  condition." 

"  And  you  are  repairing  him.  But  what  are  you 
doing  with  that  huge,  bearish-looking  coat  ?  It's  as 
much  as  you  can  do  to  lift  it,  I  should  judge." 

"  Oh,  I've  been  putting  in  new  front-facings  and 
sleeve-linings,  and  fixing  it  up  a  little,"  returned 
she.  "  But,  Colonel,  do  tell  me,  have  you  read  Ma- 
caulay's  second  volume  ?" 

I  replied  that  I  had  dipped  into  it,  and  added : 
"  But,  before  we  discuss  Macaulay,  I  want  you  to 
tell  me  how  you  learned  to  be  so  accomplished  a  tai- 
loress  ?" 

"  Rebecca  can  do  anything  she  wishes,"  said  her 
mother,  in  a  soft,  gentle  voice,  "  the  heart  is  a 
good  teaeherP 

"  Thank  you,  mother,"  rejoined  the  sweet  girl, 
"Colonel  Lunettes  will  make  allowance  for  youi 
natural  partiality." 

"  I  would,  were  it  necessary,  my  dear,"  I  answered, 
"  but  I  can  decide  for  myself  in  your  case." 

A  bow,  a  blush,  and  a  pleasant  laugh  responded, 
and,  rising,  she  deposited  the  heavy  garment  she 
had  been  repairing,  upon  the  arm  of  a  chair,  and 
immediately  reseating  herself,  placed  a  large  basket 
full  of  woollen  stockings,  at  her  side,  threaded  a  stout 
alderman-like-looking  darning    needle  with    thick 


rO   rOLITENESS    AND   FASHION.  465 

yarn,  and  began  to  mend  a  formidable  bole  in  ono 
of  tbe  socks.  Her  brother  is  an  engineer,  and  I 
divined  at  a  glance,  that  those  strong,  warm  things 
were,  like  the  blanket-coat,  part  of  his  outfit  for  a 
campaign  in  the  swamps. 

"  I  am  delighted  .  with  Macaulay's  elaborate 
sketches  of  individuals,"  resumed  the  busy  seam- 
stress, drawing  out  her  long  needle  and  thread,  and 
returning  it  with  the  speed  and  accuracy  of  nicely- 
adjusted  machinery ;  "  do  you  recollect  his  portraiture 
of  the  Trimmer  ^" 

^*  It  is  very  fine,"  I  answered,  like  everything  else 
Macaulay  has  written.  "Nothing,  however,  has 
impressed  me  more,  thus  far,  in  his  history,  than  his 
description  of  the  condition  of  the  clergy  of  the  Estab- 
lished Church,  in  the  rural  districts,  during  the 
reign  of  James,  and  later  even." 

"I,  too,  was  exceedingly  interested  in  it,"  replied 
Rebecca.  "  And  the  more,  that  I  was  reminded  of 
the  fate  of  the  daughters  of  English  country  curates, 
even  at  this  day  ;  of  '  gentle  blude,'  many  times,  bora 
and  educated  ladies,  they  are  subjected,  frequently, 
through  life,  to  toil  and  suffering  that  would  excuse 
their  envying  the  fate  of  a  mere  kitchen-drudge !" 

"They  are,  usually,  governesses  for  life,  and  never 
marry,"  continued  I. 

"ISTever  marry— though  they  are  so  educated  and 
disciplined,  as  to  be  peculiarly  well-fitted  for  the 
fulfillment  of  woman's  dearest  and  highest  destiny ! 
Thank  God !  I  was  born  where  such  social  thraldom, 
such  hateful  monstrosities,  are  not !"     And  the  face 

20* 


46« 


tliat  turned  its  glance  upward,  for  an  instant,  with 
those  last  fervent  words,  was  overspread  with  a  glow 
bright  as  the  crimson  hue  of  sunset. 

But,  though  my  friend  Eebecca,  was  the  last 
woman  in  the  world  to 

"Die  of  a  rose,  in  aromatic  pain," 

she  was  a  perfect  Sybarite,  in  some  respects,  as  I  will 
convince  you. 

Entering  her  mother's  tasteful,  pretty  drawing- 
room,  a  few  evenings  after  this  conversation,  I  found 
the  charming  "  Jewess,"  as  I  sometimes  called  her, 
in  allusion  to  Scott's  celebrated  heroine,  reading  by 
the  light  of  an  astral  lamp.  She  was  elegantly,  and, 
I  suppose  fashionably,  dressed,  and  reclining  in  a 
large,  luxurious-looking,  stuffed  chair,  with  her 
daintily-slippered  feet,  half  buried  in  a  soft  crimson 
cushion.  In  short,  she  was  the  very  impersonation 
of  the  "  unbought  grace  "  of  one  of  I^ature's  queens. 
Had  I  been  younger,  by  some  fifty  years,  I  should 
have  been  tempted,  beyond  a  doubt,  to  do  oriental 
homage  to  so  much  loveliness. 

"  By  the  way,  Rebecca,"  said  I,  after  a  few  min- 
utes' chat  with  my  hostess,  "I  must  tell  you  of  a 
witticism  you  elicited,  this  morning,  from  one  of 
your  admirers!" 

"  One  of  my  admirers !     Who,  pray  ?" 

"  Guess !  "Well,  I  won't  tantalize  you ! — Howard 
Parker!" 

"  You  tell  me  something,  Colonel !  I  am  not  en- 
titled to  enter  Mr.  Parker  on  my  list  of  friends  " 


TO   POLITENESS   AISD  FASHION.  467 

"  What,  what !  that  to  me,  my  dear  ?  I  have  a 
great  mind^to  punish  you,  by  not  telling  you  what 
he  said." 

"As  you  please,  Colonel  Lunettes!"  with  a  co- 
quettish toss  of  her  long  ringlets. 

"  Please,  tell  me^  Colonel !"  interposed  her  moth- 
er, smilingly ;  "  don't  mind  Eebecca's  nonsense — tell 
me!" 

"In  a  whisper?"  I  inquired,  laughing,  and  glanc- 
ind  at  the  "Jewess."  "I  hardly  dare  to  venture 
that!  "Well !  meeting  Howard,  who  is  a  great  favor- 
ite of  mine,  in  the  street,  this  morning,  he  told  me 
he  was  coming  here,  to  call.  'Steel  your  heart, 
then,'  said  I — '  Or  she  will  steal  it  P  he  answered,  as 
quick  as  thought." 

"  Quite  a  jeu  d^ esprit  P^  exclaimed  Eebecca, 
laughing  gaily.  "  But,  Colonel,  Mr.  Parker  may  be 
witty,  accomplished,  and  intellectual,  but  he  is  not  a 
gentleman .'" 

"  My  daughter,  you  are  severe,"  said  her  mother, 
deprecatingly. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  be,  mother ;  but " — 

"  From  what  do  you  draw  such  a  sweeping  infer- 
ence, my  child  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  From  trifles,  dear  sir,  I  admit ;  but 

*  trifles  make  the  sum  of  human  things  I* 

and  slight  peculiarities  often  indicate  character. 
For  instance,  Mr.  Parker  keeps  his  hat  on,  when  he 
is  talking  to  ladies,  and  neglects  his  teeth  and  hair — 
you  needn't  laugh,  mamma!  Yesterday  morning, 
he  joined  me  in  the  street,  and  came  home  with  me. 


468  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUmE 

or,  nearly  home ;  for  he  stopped  short,  a  little  way 
from  the  house,  let  me  cross  a  great  mud-puddle,  as 
well  as  I  could,  alone,  and  open  the  gate  tor  myself, 
though  I  had  my  hands  full  of  things.  It's  true,  he 
had  the  grace  to  color  a  little,  when  I  said,  signifi- 
cantly, as  he  bade  me  good  morning,  that  I  was  glad 
I  had  crossed  the  Slough  of  Despond,  without  acci- 
dent.'' 

"  That  showed  that  a  sensible  woman  could  correct 
his  faults,"  I  remarked. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  replied  my  hostess. 
"  Such  things,  as  Rebecca  says,  indicate  character  / 
and  I  would  not  advise  any  young  lady  to  marry  a 
man,  with  the  expectation  of  reforming  him." 

"  Not  of  a  cardinal  vice,  certainly,"  said  I ;  "  but 
there  are  " — 

Here  a  servant  interrupted  me  with — "  Mr.  Par- 
ker's compliments.  Miss,"  and  offered  my  fastidious 
young  friend  a  large  parcel,  wrapped  in  a  wet,  soiled 
newspaper,  and  tied  with  dirty  red  tape. 

"  Ugh !"  exclaimed  the  Sybarite,  recoiling,  with 
unrepressed  disgust.  "  "What  is  it,  Betty  ?  It  can't 
be  for  me !" 

"  It  is^  Miss,  an'  no  mistake — the  boy  said  it  got 
wet  in  the  rain,  widout,  as  he  was  bringing  it,  an' 
no  umberrellar  wid  him." 

"Will  you  just  take  it  into  the  hall,  and  take  off 
the  paper,  Biddy?  Be  careful  not  to  let  it  get 
dirty  and  wet,  inside,  will  you?" — With  studied 
nonchalance. 

Presently  Biddy  laid  down  a  large,  handsomely- 
bound  volume,  and  a  note,  before  the  young  lady 


TO  politeness*'and  fashion.  460 

"It  is  a  copy  of  Macaulay's  *Lays  of  Ancient 
Rome,'  "  saM  she,  skimming  over  the  note.  "  Mr, 
Parker  was  alluding  to  some  passage  in  one  of  the 
poems,  this  morning.  He  says  I  will  find  it  marked 
and  begs  me  to  accept  the  book,  as  a  philopoena — oh, 
here  are  the  lines — I  thought  them  very  fine  as  he 
recited  them.  Shall  I  read  them,  mamma?  And 
you,  sir,  will  you  hear  them  ?" 

*' '  Then  none  was  for  a  party ; 

Then  all  were  for  the  state ; 
Then  the  great  man  helped  the  poor, 

And  the  poor  man  loved  the  great ; 
Then  lands  were  fairly  portioned  ; 

Then  spoils  were  fairly  sold : 
The  Romans  were  like  brothers, 

In  the  brave  days  of  old.' " 

The  enthusiasm  with  which  the  appreciatmg 
reader  read  this  spirited  passage,  did  not  prevent  my 
observing  that  she  held  her  handkerchief  closely 
pressed  upon  the  back  of  the  exquisite  antique  bind- 
ing of  the  volume,  in  the  hope,  as  I  inferred,  of  dry- 
ing the  stain  of  wet  which  I  noticed,  at  once  attract- 
ed her  attention  when  she  took  up  the  gift.  The 
open  note,  as  it  lay  upon  the  table,  disclosed  a  torn, 
ragged  edge,  as  if  it  had  been  carelessly  severed 
from  a  sheet  of  foolscap. 

Whatever  her  reflections,  the  young  lady  had  too 
much  instinctive  delicacy  to  comment  upon  these 
peccadilloes,  and  so,  of  course,  I  could  institute  no 
defense  of  my  friend.  I,  therefore,  tacked,^  as  a 
eailor  would  say. 


4:70  THE  AMKIilCAN   GENTLEMAn's   GUIDE 

"  Howard's  a  noble  fellow,"  said  I,  "  in  spite  of 
his  little  oddities,  but  he  has  one  fault,  unfortunately, 
which  I  fear  will  prevent  his  winning  much  favor 
with  the  ladies." 

"  What  is  that?"  inquired  my  young  auditor,  in  a 
tone  of  seeming  indifference,  but  with  a  heightened 
color,  and  an  eager  glance. 

"He  \9> poor P^ 

"  Do  you  mean  that  he  lives  ly  his  wits,  as  the 
phrase  is  ?"  asked  my  hostess. 

"  By  no  means  I  simply  this  : — Parker  began  the 
world  without  a  dollar,  and  has  had,  thus  far,  to 
'paddle  his  own  canoe,'  as  he  expresses  it,  against 
wind  and  tide." 

"That  is  quite  the  best  thing  I  ever  knew  of 
him  !"  exclaimed  Rebecca,  with  animation,  "  It  does 
him  great  credit,  in  my  estimation  !  But,  Colonel,  I 
cannot  agree  with  you  in  thinking  Mr.  Parker, 
poor  .^" 

"ISTo?" 

"  No,  indeed  !  in  my  regard,  no  man  in  our  coun- 
try is  poor,  who  possesses  health,  education,  and  an 
unblemished  reputation  /" 


In  the  library  of  the  only  representative  of  the 
British  government  in  this  country — and  he  was  the 
lineal  representative,  as  well,  of  one  of  the  oldest, 
wealthiest  and  most  aristocratic  of  noble  English 
families — whose  guest  I  remember  to  have  been,  I 
found  great  numbers  of  books,  which  he  had  brought 


TO   POLITENESS   AND   lASHION.  4:71 

witli  liim  from  home,  but  they  were  arranged  upon 
simple,  unpainted  pine  shelves,  put  up  for  con- 
venience, while  the  owner  should  remain  at  Wash- 
ington. He  brought  his  books,  because  he  wanted 
them  for  constant  use — but,  though  accustomed  to 
the  utmost  luxuriousness  of  appointment  at  home, 
he  did  not  dream  of  bringing  furniture  across  the 
Atlantic,  or  of  apologizing  for  the  absence  of  more 
than  was  demanded  by  necessity  in  his  temporary 
residence. 

I  remember,  too,  to  have  heard  it  said  that  one  of 
the  recent  governors  of  the  Empire  State  had  not  a 
eingle  article  of  mahogany  furniture  in  his  house  at 
Albany  ;  and  yet,  nobody  complained  of  any  want 
of  hospitality  or  courtesy  on  his  part,  while  making 
this  discovery.  The  simple  fact  was,  that,  being 
without  private  fortune,  and  the  salary  of  his  office 
insufficient  for  such  expenditures,  he  could  not  afford 
it — and  no  man,  I  believe,  is  bound  to  run  in  debt, 
to  gratify  either  the  expectations  or  the  vanity  of 
his  political  constituents. 

As  a  contrast  to  these  anecdotes,  how  does  the 
following  incident  impress  you  ? 

Walking  down  Broadway,  in  New  York,  one 
bright  morning  with  a  distinguished  American 
statesman,  he  suddenly  came  to  a  full  halt  before 
a  show-window  in  which  glittered,  among  minor 
matters,  a  superb  candelabra^  in  all  the  glory  of 
gilding  and  pendants. 

"  That's  a  very  handsome  affair.  Lunettes,"  said 
my  companion  ;  ''  let  us  step  in  here  a  moment." 


472 

"W~e  entered  accordingly.  A  salesman  came  for- 
ward. 

"What  is  the  price  of  that  candelabra,  in  tho 
window  ?"  inquired  the  statesman. 

"  Six  hundred  dollars,"  replied  the  young  man. 

"  Pack  it  up  and  send  it  to  M ,"  replied  my 

friend,  turning  to  go. 

"And  the  bill,  sir?" 

"  You  may  send  the  bill  to  me — to  D W , 

at  Washington." 

I  happened  to  know  that  the  great  man  had,  only 
within  a  day  or  two,  been  released,  by  the  genero- 
sity of  several  of  his  personal  friends,  from  an  em-, 
bargo  upon  his  movements  that  would  otherwise 
have  prevented  his  eloquent  thunder  from  being 
heard  in  the  National  Senate  I 


Tlie  massive  head  and  stately  bearing  of  John 
Marshall  always  rise  before  my  mind's  eye,  when  I 
recall  this  characteristic  illustration  of  his  native 
manliness : 

The  Chief  Justice  was  in  the  habit  of  going  to 
market  himself,  and  carrying  home  his  purchases. 
He  might  frequently  be  seen  at  sunrise,  with  poultry 
in  one  hand  and  vegetables  in  the  other. 

On  one  of  these  occasions,  a  young  N'ortherner, 
who  had  recently  removed  to  Richmond,  and  thus 
become  a  fellow-townsraan  of  the  great  Yirginian, 
was  heard  loudly  complaining  that  no  one  could  bo 
found  to  carry  home  his  turkey. 


TO   P0LITENE6S   AND   FASHION".  ^73 

ThOt Chief  Justice,  who  was  unknown  to  the  new- 
comer, advancing,  inquired  where  the  stranger  lived 
and  on  being  informed,  said,  very  quietly — "  That  is 
on  my  way ;  I  will  take  it  for  you ;"  and  receiving 
the  turkey,  walked  briskly  away. 

When  he  reached  the  house  that  had  been  desig- 
nated, Marshall  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  owner,  and 
delivered  up  his  burden. 

"  What  shall  I  pay  you  ?"  inquired  the  youth. 

"ISTothing,  whatever,"  replied  the  biographer  of 
Washington,  "  it  was  all  in  my  way,  and  not  the 
slightest  trouble — ^you  are  welcome  ;"  and  he  pur- 
sued his  course. 

"  Who  is  that  polite  old  man  ?"  asked  the  young 
stranger  of  a  by-stander. 

He  was  answered — "  That  is  John  Marshall^ 
Chief  Justice  of  the  United  States ^ 

I  well  remember,  too,  how  often  I  used  to  join  my 
old  friend.  Chief  Justice  Spencer,  of  ITew  York,  as 
he  climbed  the  long  hill  leading  to  his  residence,  at 
Albany,  with  a  load  of  poultry  in  his  hand.  And  1 
dare  say  his  great-hearted  brother-in-law,  De  Witt 
Clinton,  often  did  the  same  thing.  Certain  I  am, 
that  he  was  the  most  unostentatious  of  human  beings, 
as  simple  and  natural  as  a  boy,  to  the  end  of  his 
days. 


I  have  the  vanity  to  believe  that  you  will  not  have 
forgotten  the  little  sketch  I  gave  you,  in  a  previous 
letter,  of  my  interesting  young  friend  Julia  Peters, 
Not  long  after  my  brief  acquaintance  with  her — that 


474 

is,  within  a  year — I  received  a  newspaper* neatly 
inclosed,  and  sealed  with  a  fanciful  device,  in  pret- 
tily-tinted wax,  which  being  interpreted  for  me  by 
a  fair  adept  in  such  matters,  was  said  to  read— 
"  Love,  or  Cupid,  carrying  a  budget  to  you  from  me." 
The  following  paragraph  was  carefully  marked  : 

"  Married  : — In  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Inno- 
cents, in  this  village,  on  Tuesday,  May  12th,  by  the 

Hev.  B y ,  St.  John  Benton  and  Julia  A. 

Peters,  daughter  of  the  late  Fitz-James  Peters,  Esq., 
ofPrinceton,  K  J." 

Then  followed  this  sentence,  in  large  characters : 
"The  Pkintek  and  the  'carrier'  acknowledge 
a   bountiful   receipt   of   superb   wedding-cake.-  — 
May  every  hlessing  attend  the  Ka]pjpy  jpair  /" 

I,  too,  had  my  share  of  the  wedding-cake,  accom- 
panied by  very  tasteful,  simple  cards,  as  well  as  a 
previous  invitation  to  the  wedding,  written  jointly  by 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Y ,  and  in  terms  most  flatteringly 

cordial,  and  complimentary.     Mrs.  Y and  I  had, 

by  this  time,  exchanged  letters  more  than  once.  I 
will  give  you,  as  a  specimen  of  the  agreeable  epis- 
tolary style  of  my  fair  friend,  the  following  commu- 
nication, which  reached  me  some  two  or  three 
months  after  the  marriage  of  her  sister. 

"Rectory, ,  Aug.  22dy . 

•  *  Dear  Col.  Lunettes  : — 

"  I  avail  myself  of  my  very  first  leisure 
to  comply  with  the  request  contained  in  your  most 
kind  and  acceptable  letter  of  last  week.     Whether 


TO  POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  4^5 

your  amiable  politeness  does  not  overrate  my  capa- 
city to  write  a  '  true  woman's  letter — full  of  little 
significant  details  and  particularities,'  remains  to  be 
seen.  I  will  do  my  best,  at  least,  and  '  naugbt  exte- 
nuate, nor  set  down  aught  in  malice.' 

"  I  hardly  know  where  to  begin,  in  answer  to  your 
query  about  the  *  possibility  of  the  most  economical 
young  people  managing  to  live  on  so  small  an 
income.'  The  truth  is,  Julia  and  I,  thanks  to  a  judi- 
cious mother,  -wqyg practically  educated^  which  makes 
all  the  difference  in  the  world  in  a  woman's  capacity 
to  '  make  the  worse  appear  the  better  reason '  in 
matters  of  domestic  management.  The  house  they 
live  in  is  their  own.  Mr.  Benton,  fortunately,  pos- 
sessed the  means  of  fully  paying  for  it  (he  was 
entirely  frank  with  Mr.  Y about  all  these  mat- 
ters, from  the  beginning)  and  Julia  was  able  to  fur- 
nish it  simply,  though  comfortably.  It  is  a  small 
establishment,  to  be  sure. — a  little  house  and  a  little 
garden,  but  it  is  their  own^  and  that  gives  it  a  charm 
which  it  would  not  otherwise  possess.  They  feel  that 
they  will  have  the  benefit  of  such  improvements  as 
they  may  make,  and  it  is  wonderful  what  an  effect 
this  consciousness  produces.  The  house  was  a  plain, 
bald-looking  building  enough,  when  Fitz  James 
bought  it.  Julia  said  it  would  be  a  bold  poetic 
license  to  call  it  a  cottage! — but  he  has  studied 
architecture,  at  intervals,  as  he  has  had  time,  with  a 
view  to  future  advancement,  and  so  he  devised,  and 
partly  constructed,  tasteful  little  ornaments  to  sur- 
mount the  windows,  and  a  very  preti-y  rustic  porch 
in  front.      The   effect  was   really   almost   magical, 


476 

wlien  united  with  the  soft,  warm  color  that  took  the 
place  of  the  glaring  white  of  which  every  one  is  be- 
coming so  tired.  It  is  quite  picturesque,  I  assure 
you,  now.  As  a  romantic  young  lady  said  of  it — '  it 
is  like  the  cottages  we  read  of, — quite  a  picture- 
place.'  But  pretty  and  tasteful  as  it  is  outside^  one 
must  become  an  inmate  of  Julia's  little  Eden,  to 
know  half  its  claims  to  admiration.  It  is  just  the 
neatest,  snuggest,  cosiest  little  nest  (by  the  way  they 
call  it  '  Cosey  Cottage^  as  you  will  please  remem 
ber  when  you  write,  dear  sir)  you  can  imagine. 
There  is  nothing  grand,  or  even  elegant,  perhaps, 
but  every  part  is  thoroughly  furnished  for  conven- 
nience  and  comfort,  and  everything  eorres^ponds.  It 
is  not  like  some  city  houses  I  have  been  in,  where 
everything  was  expended  in  glare  and  display  in  the 
two  parlors — '  -w^iwisely  kept  for  show,'  and  up-stairs 
and  in  the  kitchen,  the  most  scanty,  comfortless 
arrangements.  Julia's  carpets  and  curtains  are  quite 
inexpensive,  but  the  colors  are  well  chosen  for  h^- 
mony  of  effect.  (Julia  rather  prides  herself  upon 
having  things  artistic^  as  she  expresses  it,  even  to  the 
looping  up  of  a  curtain.)  There  is  a.  sort  of  indescri- 
bable expression  about  the  little  parlor,  which,  by 
the  way,  they  really  use,  daily — ^her  friends  say — 
•How  much  this  is  like  Julia!'  Some  of  Julia's 
crayon  heads,  and  a  sketch  or  two  of  Mr.  Benton's, 
are  hung  in  the  different  rooms,  and  they  have  con- 
trived, or  rather  imitated,  (fori  believe  St.  John  said 
it  was  a  French  idea)  the  prettiest  little  hracketSy 
which  are  disposed  about  the  walls  and  corners  of  the 
parlor.    They  are  only  rough  things  that  her  hus* 


TO  POLITENESS  AND  FASHION.  477 

band  makes  up,  covered  by  Julia,  with  some  dark 
'naterial,  and  ornamented  with  fringe,  costing  almost 
aothing,  but  so  pretty  in  effect  for  supporting  vases 
of  flowers  or  little  figures,  or  something  of  that  kind. 
Then  there  is  a  tiny  place,  opening  from  the  parlor, 
dignified  with  the  name  of  library^  where  Julia  and 
Benton  *  draped,'  and  '  adjusted,'  and  re-draped, 
and  re-adjusted,  to  their  infinite  enjoyment  and  con- 
tent, and  somewhat  to  my  amusement^  I  will  confess 
to  youj  dear  sir.  Indeed  they  trot  in  harness^  to 
borrow  one  of  St.  John's  phrases, — most  thoroughly 
matched^  as  well  as  rtiated^  and  go  best  together. 
They  think  so,  at  least,  I  should  infer,  as  they  always 
are  together,  if  possible.  Julia  helps  Benton  in  the 
garden — holds  the  trees  and  shrubs  while  he  places 
them,  and  ties  up  the  creeping-roses,  and  other 
things  he  arranges  over  the  porch,  and  around  the 
windows,  and  assists  him  with  the  lighter  work  of 
manufacturing  rustic  seats  and  stands,  and  baskets 
for  the  garden  and  summer-house  ;  and  Benton  (who 
has  quite  a  set  of  tools)  puts  up  shelves  and  various 
contrivances  of  that  sort,  and  did  help  to  lay  the  car- 
pets, etc.,  Julia  told  me.  Indeed,  while  I  was  with 
them,  Mr.  Benton's  daily  life  constantly  reminded 
me  of  the  beautiful  injunction  —  *Let  every  man 
show,  by  his  kind  acts  and  good  deeds,  how  much  of 
Heaven  he  has  in  him.' 

"  But  I  only  tire  you,  dear  sir,  by  my  poor  attempts 
to  portray  my  sister's  simple  happiness — you 
must  see  it  for  yourself!  I  make  no  apology  for 
the  minuteness  of  my  details, — ^if  they  seem  puerile, 
Colonel  Lunettes  has  himself  to  thank  for  my  frank- 


478  THE  AMERICAN   GENTLEMAN's   GUIDE 

ness,  but  I  have  yet  to  learn  that  my  valued  friend 
says,  or  writes,  what  he  does  nbt  mean. 

"I  have  left  to  the  last — ^because  so  pleasant  a 
theme, — some  reference  to  Julia's  pride  and  delight 
in  3^our  beautiful  bridal-gift  to  her.  She  has,  no 
doubt,  long  since,  written  to  thank  you ;  but  I  can- 
not deny  myself  the  gratification  of  telling  you  how 
much  she  values  and  enjoys  it, — from  my  own  obser- 
vation. It  is  really  noticeable  too,  how  exactly  it 
suits  with  all  the  other  table  appointments  she  has — 
(unless  perhaps  it  is  a  shade  too  handsome)  only 
another  proof  of  Colonel  Lunettes'  fine  taste !     Mr. 

Y ,     to  tease  Julia,    asked  her    one    evening, 

when  she  was  indulging  in  a  repetition  of  her  usual 
eulogy  upon  the  gift  and  the  giver,  whether  she 
really  meant  to  say  that  she  'preferred  a  china  tea-pot, 
sugar-bowl,  and  cream-cup,  to  silver  ones.  *  Indeed 
I  do,'  said  she,  '  a  silver  tea-service  for  m^,  would 
be  "  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought !"  It 
would  not  suit  my  style  at  all.'  Julia  says  she  shall 
never  be  perfectly  happy  until  she  makes  tea  for 
Colonel  Lunettes,  from  her  beautiful  china,  and  Mr. 
Benton  says  Colonel  Lunettes  is  the  only  man  in  the 
world  of  whom  he  is  jealous  1  Upon  this,  there 
always  follows  a  gentle  {^ery  gentle)  twitching  of 
St.  John's  whiskers,  of  which,  I  will  add,  by  way 
of  a  description  of  \kiQ  personnel  of  the  young  man, 

he  has  a  pair  as  black  and  curling  as  Mr.  Y 's, — 

indeed,  I  must  concede  that  Julia's  husband  is  almost 
as  handsome  as  my  own ! 

"We  are  all  eagerly  anticipating  the  fulfillment 
of  your  promise  to  visit  our  beautiful  valley,  while 


TO   POLITENESS   AND  FASHION.  479 

roted  in  the  gorgeous  hues  of  Autumn.  Mr.  Y — -* 
and  I,  are  arranging  everything  with  reference 
to  so  agreeable  an  event; — 'We  will  go  there,  or 
see  that,'  we  say,  'when  Colonel  Lunettes  comes.' 
Julia,  too,  is  looking  forward,  with  much  pleasure, 
to  welcoming  so  coveted  a  guest.  '  I  hope  we  shall 
be  able  to  make  the  Colonel  comfortable^  in  our 
quiet  way,'  she  always  says,  when  speaking  of  your 

promised  visit;  'you,  and  Mr.  Y ,  are  so  used 

to  have  the  bishop,  and  other  celebrities,  that  you 
don't  know  anything  about  being  nervous,  at  such 
times ;  but  poor  me — -just  beginning,  and  such  a 
novice !'  Upon  this,  her  husband  always  appeals  to 
me,  to  say  whether  I  have  nicer  things  to  eat,  any- 
where, '  even  at  home,'  and  whether  any  sensible 
man  could  not  content  himself,  even  in  such  a  '  little 
box,'  for  a  few  days,  at  least ;  especially,  when  well 
assured  how  happy  and  honored  a  certain  young 
lady  will  be,  on  the  occasion.  And  I  must  say,  for 
Julia,  that  her  versatile  powers  are  fully  illustrated 
in  her  housekeeping.  Mr.  Y declares  that  no- 
body hut  his  wife  can  make  such  bread — a  perfect 
cure  for  dyspepsia  !  and,  as  for  the  pumpkin-pies  ! — 
well,  upon  the  whole,  he  has  decided  that  we  ought 
to  spend  Thanksgiving  at  '  Cosey  Cottage.' 

"I  have  omitted  to  mention  that,  at  Julia's  earnest 
instance,  we  left  her  little  namesake — '  Colonel  Lu- 
nettes' pet,'  as  she  delights  to  call  herself — with  her, 
when  we  were  there.  I  hardly  knew  how  to  give 
her  up,  though  but  for  a  few  weeks,  even  to  her 
aunt.  Just  before  we  came  away,  I  said  to  her,  'I 
hope  Aunt  Julia,  and  Uncle  St.  John,  won't  spoil 


iSO 


you,  my  darling ;  your  aunt  has  promised  to  scold 
you,  when  yon  are  naughty.'  '  Oh,  but  'ou  see, 
mamma,  I  don't  never  mean  to  ^e  haughty,'  she 
answered,  almost  stopping  my  breath  with  her  little 
chubby  arms  clinging  about  my  neck. 

"  Persuaded,  dear  sir,  that  you  will  have  ^  supped 
your  full,'  even  to  repletion,  of  a  *  true  woman's  let- 
ter,' I  will  only  add  to  Mr.  Y 's  kindest  remem- 
brances and  regards,  the  sincere  assurance  that  I 
am,  as  ever, 

"Your  attached  and  grateful 

Cecilia  D.  Y ." 

"Col.  Henry  Lunettes." 

And  now,  my  dear  nephews,  that  the  blessing  of 
Heaven  may  rest  upon  you,  always,  in 

"  Life's  earnest  toil  and  endeavor," 

is  the  affectionate  and  heartfelt  prayer  and  farew;ell 
of  your 

Uncle  Hal, 


THE   EIJID, 


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